Totality of Defeat
by H.J. Bender
Summary: Greece, 1176 BC: Ryo Sanadus is a young Trojan rebel captured by the cruel, merciless Spartan general Cye Morinum. Now Ryo, with help from fellow slave Sage Dathae, must learn to endure or die. Mature readers only. DISCONTINUED
1. Chapter I Defeat

**Chapter I: Defeat**

_Rome, 1176 B.C._

Nearly ten years had passed since the fall of Troy. The battle was over but never forgotten. The people of Troy, if not scattered to the four corners of the earth, taken prisoner for continued uprising, or forced to live under Greek authority, formed smalls groups that rallied themselves against their conquerors from time to time, defeat always being the assured outcome. Still, the Trojans did not lose hope.

From a small family that was killed in the taking of Troy, a young warrior emerged with a sword and strove to unite the random resistance groups, to form an army with which he planned to fight in vengeance for the lives of those lost, and to reclaim the land of Troy, his home.

He was a passionate young man in his early twenties, proud and sure of himself, with thick, unruly hair like the darkest of nights and eyes like the sky on a clear day. Those eyes had seen many things, but never defeat. They saw it today.

Though he fought well and with the skill of many years of training, some of his best soldiers had been lost, soldiers like he. And as general of this army, he had led them against an opponent that was far smaller and should have guaranteed and easy victory… but for the first time, he knew defeat. In one fell swoop, months of planning and all his efforts to form a strong and unmoving military were wiped out by a small faction of skilled fighters and their tactical, efficient leader.

The young man had been told to fight with his heart, that that was where his greatest strength lay. But his spirit was wounded from the loss of his many comrades, thus he fought blindly in sorrow and rage, and that was where he made his error. His emotions and vast heart had clouded his better judgment, and he fell to his enemies. He would have been killed had not he been the general, alas, he would find that there were certain customs that must be arranged with the victor.

The victor, whom he would soon never forget.

* * *

The victorious army marched home through the gates of the city, greeted by cheers and laurel leaves filling the air that spoke of how glad the people were to have its sturdy army back and safe with minimal casualties.

Young Ryo Sanadus was marched, bound with his hands behind his back, down the streets with the rest of his captive army. He wished for a merciful and swift end but was not to be so easily spared; flanking him were two large and well-armed guards who were not too forgiving to rough him up a bit and put quite a few bruises on his rather smaller and younger frame. Their crude, loud bantering over his head was beginning to drive him mad as they generously talked of what was to become of him with little regards for leaving out the gory details. Ryo never knew there were so many methods of killing a person, something lent to him by inexperienced naivety. The battles he had fought were few and far between; he had finally seen what _real_ war was like.

"Perhaps the general will disembowel him," one guard laughed.

"Only if he's alive," the other replied. "I wonder if the tannery wouldn't like the hide of this child, it's fair enough. Look how easily he bruises." And he gave a rough tweak to a light purple spot on the dark haired boy's face.

"Nah," said the first guard. "His skin is much too soft. It wouldn't last for a pair of boots. A lady's purse, perhaps, but this little scamp has no calluses! He's like a newborn babe!"

"Must be why he lost so miserably! He can't have been a warrior!"

The two sentries roared with laughter and Ryo endured them with mounting shame on his shoulders. They were right; he was not the person to be leading an army. He let his emotions get the better of him and now he would pay the ultimate price. Oh, if only the gods would have mercy on him. He just wanted vengeance for his dead family, his father, his mother and the child she would have soon birthed… and in his quest for justice had he stumbled into the play of his own demise. He hung his head in utter hopelessness.

It was folly to think that the gods would even consider sparing an orphaned boy as reckless and weak as he.

* * *

Ryo was dragged before the king in shackles and chains. He looked a great mess: his tunic torn and bloodied, his face a canvas smudged with dirt and painted with bruises, his hair tousled and disheveled. He was forced upon his knees before the king's throne by the guards who walked him in, two spears ready to skewer him clean through should he so much as glare at the king, whom they respectfully addressed as King Rowenium.

"And what manner of creature is _this_?" the king inquired haughtily, gazing down at the young boy.

The sentry put his spear to the boy's throat and snarled, "Answer the king, whelp."

Ryo looked up and saw to his amazement that the ruler was not as old as he thought; his strangely coloured hair had an almost blue hue to it and eyes that were and even darker blue. They scrutinised Ryo with a profound look of deep thought, and Ryo imagined that the king must be very wise if he were so young a ruler over such a powerful land.

"Sanadus," Ryo murmured, and the guard kicked him hard in the side. "Y-your Majesty!" He gasped for having the breath knocked from him and grimaced in pain.

"You're a very stupid boy, young Sanadus," Rowenium stated loudly for the whole palace to hear. "Troy was defeated eight years ago and still you foolish rebels think that you can assemble and overtake us with your pathetically lacking and poorly equipped little brigands. Now hear you this: the Trojans have settled in among us and are happy living under our rule, better than they ever could have in Troy. Dogs like you are a threat to society, up-starters of revolution, an endangerment to the very peace your own people have weaved under our superiour command.

"To show my infinite mercy, I shall detain your soldiers, "general", and allow them to live amongst us and experience what _real_ life should be like, not living cast away on the desolate outskirts of a gutted and pillaged city, but in a peaceable environment of that which the gods themselves smile upon. Your men are hereby essentially freed, Sanadus. _You_, on the other hand-" He narrowed his eyes at Ryo. "You await a different fate, as you are undoubtedly the very thorn of Troy which has imbedded itself in my foot and cost me the lives of some of my men today."

"_Your_ men!?" Ryo cried desperately. "_My_ men died today as well!" He was soundly buffeted with the butt ends of the spears as the guards assailed him for speaking rudely against their king.

"And they might not have died today had it not been for your foolish incompetence!" Rowenium bellowed mightily, silencing the entire throne room. When his echo had stopped ringing and the horrible feeling of despair and found its way into Ryo's heart, the king added, "Your life, or what remains of it, I leave in the hands of one of my best generals. Morinum!"

The tall and dignified young general with reddish tinted locks appeared at his king's side with a breathy murmur of, "My liege?"

Ryo was shocked. The general was young as well! Were there no seasoned old men with which he might retain a little of his dignity? Being chastised by men no older than he, it was unbearable!

King Rowenium gave a flip of his wrist, as if indicating of something of very little worth. "He is yours to do with and dispose of. Remove him from my sight, won't you?"

Morinum smiled and bowed. "Certainly, your Majesty." Then he turned and gave Ryo a cold, knowing glare and nodded to the two guards, who chuckled lewdly and followed the fluttering cloak of their general.

* * *

He hit the dirt floor of the pavilion with a thud, landing stomach first and kicking up a plume of dust.

"I assume that despite your age and defeat that you've had _some_ training," Morinum commented as he stood over Ryo's prone body as it recovered from the blow. "Am I correct?"

Ryo coughed the dirt from his lungs and nodded faintly, choking again on the bits and pieces of sand that coated his tongue.

"Very well then," Morinum said stoically, stepping over him like one would a wounded dog. "We shall duel here in this pavilion. If you win you will be freed, but if you lose…" He turned around and said with an acidic tone, "Then you shall be another casualty of war."

"Then…" Ryo crawled to his knees. "I shall die?"

"Who said I was going to kill you? There are many ways of wringing the life out of a man while his body continues to live."

Ryo stared at the tall general in horrified silence. His voice, his words, his very presence filled him with a sense of dread and impending doom. Morinum nodded to the guards standing off to the side and they hauled Ryo to his feet and held him by the arms. Morinum approached and stood face to face with Ryo, a good seven inches taller than the dark haired boy. He stared down into those sky blue eyes and without breaking his gaze, extended his arm towards one of the guards, where they placed something in his hand-- Morinum held it out to Ryo.

"Your sword, Sanadus."

Ryo looked down and saw that it was his very own sword, crafted by the most well-known swordsmith in Troy and without any apparent damage, and he carefully retrieved it from his enemy's hand. The familiar weight of his prized weapon in his palm filled him with confidence and security, and when he looked back up, Morinum was on the other side of the pavilion, taking a long weapon from the hands of another guard. He approached, and Ryo saw that it was a kind of metal staff with two short blades centring a longer blade, resembling a sort of trident. Still, the blades were small and not at all intimidating, or maybe it was the effect of the sword that Ryo held that so boosted his esteem.

"Are you ready to fight for your freedom, Sanadus?" the general asked.

"I am."

The guards released Ryo and stepped back, and the two generals began to circle each other in the centre of the pavilion. They stared each other down like wolves with their hackles raised over a fresh kill. Morinum allowed Ryo to draw closer and lunge at him with his sword; he merely stepped aside easily and struck his opponent in the back with the end of his staff, sending Ryo sprawling into the dirt. Ryo rolled over quickly just as the blades of Morinum's weapon came down and buried into the spot where once his body was. Ryo thrust upward with his sword and Morinum dodged right, placing his foot on Ryo's chest and uprooting his weapon from the dirt. Ryo deftly struck the foot with the hilt of his sword and it lifted; he rolled to his feet and the two warriors began to circle each other again.

This time, it was Morinum who attacked first and completely without warning. He acted so swiftly and with such amazing agility that Ryo barely had time to prepare himself for the blow of the staff, which stuck him in his unprotected abdomen. Before he had time to recover and counter-strike, a second blow took his feet out from underneath him as Morinum's staff swept around and smashed against the back of his knees, forcing him to fall flat onto his back. And before he could open his eyes, a third strike occurred: the staff rapping against the knuckles of Ryo's sword hand with enough force to break the skin and draw blood. He yelped and instinctively let go, flung his sword into the air where it spun laterally and came down in Morinum's right hand as if it wanted to be there. And just as soon as it was in his hand, Morinum had the sword pressed to the flesh of Ryo's neck.

Ryo froze, eyes wide and paralysed. It had been so fast… so fast. Just when he thought he had the upper hand, five seconds later and he was looking at his own sword pointed at him and poised centimetres from the throbbing vein of life in his throat. He stared up at the young general with a lost, terrified look and whispered, "It… you can't."

The blade raised and Ryo flinched as it swiped across his left cheekbone and then the other, leaving thin trails of blood to wander down his face like red tears. _I'm going to die. Twice the same man has defeated me and now my life is doomed. I'm dead. I died as soon as I hit the ground… _Real tears began to mix with the blood and he lowered his head, black locks falling into his eyes.

"I… acknowledge defeat," he rasped throatily. The flat of the blade found his chin and lifted it upward to meet the face of its victor, almost smiling down at him in vague amusement. "I am p-prepared to die," Ryo tried to say bravely from behind his face of blood and tears.

The sword in Morinum's hand travelled down to Ryo's collar, where it slowly traced the folds of his tunic before deftly slicing through them with the sound of tearing fabric. The tunic slid off of Ryo's bare shoulders and settled around his waist. He blinked, perplexed, and attempted to inch backward a little. Morinum planted his foot firmly onto Ryo's ankle, pinning him to the spot. His sword barely hovered above the flesh of Ryo's chest, slowly moving down, silently, assuredly, as if looking for a weak spot.

Ryo made a soft growl in his throat and the blade came down, slicing across his left breast and leaving a slit that oozed blood. He was panting with panic now, certain that Morinum was going to cut him to pieces and leave him for the vultures. Before he could dwell on this further, his belt was sliced in half and slipped to the ground; his tunic parted and revealed a tan, muscular thigh, slowly paling where it met his hip.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Ryo begged and was silenced by a cut to his ribs, deeper this time. He felt hot liquid begin to slowly flow from the stinging wound and into the dust, clumping it together. The dust. _The dust._

Ryo's fist clenched a handful of the dirt and he thought that maybe, just _possibly_, if he could toss it into Morinum's eyes then that would give him enough time to get up, grab his sword and knock the general over, then he could run out, kill the advancing guards and then hide somewhere, wait until nightfall to make his escape-

"I wouldn't think about it if I were you," Morinum's even, calm tone brought Ryo back from his thoughts, as well as the heavy feeling of the sharp sword resting against his lower abdomen. "You've already admitted defeat, and although tossing dust into my eyes may seem like a good plan, I can assure you that this blade is well prepared to shed some light on your entrails should you so much as twitch."

Ryo's face drained of colour and Morinum smiled slightly. "Good boy. You may be stupid, but at least you're not deaf." The bloody tip of Ryo's own sword came up to stroke his face smoothly, smearing crimson streaks onto his cheek. "Hm. You look very nice in red, Sanadus." The brunette warrior cocked his head to the side. "What is your first name?"

"Ryo," came the nervous reply.

"Ryo," he repeated in a velvet murmur. "A fine name." The sword made its way down to his navel, hovering for a moment before slipping underneath his limp tunic and casually unfolding it from his body, fully revealing Ryo's nudity to the light of the setting sun. Ryo gasped in shock as Morinum grinned, looking up at him craftily. "For a fine lad."

Ryo cried out and struggled before the blade of his sword came down and laid open a swath of crimson across his thigh. Ryo sucked in a sob and lay still as the sword for a long while gently caressed his inner thighs, his hips, just barely brushed against his flaccid sex. His muscles twitched and fresh tears filled his eyes. This was humiliating: naked and exposed, being molested by his enemy with his own sword after having lost two battles, the last one being his final.

He suddenly recalled the tales of defeated warriors as told by the old men down at the local tavern. How once proud, noble soldiers were taken prisoner and returned as shamed, broken spirits never bound to set foot into another battle. As a child, Ryo had never known what happened to those brave warriors to make them so jaded. Now he knew. _This_ was what happened. Defeat in battle was not enough; enemies desired total defeat, spiritually, mentally, and physically.

It was the totality of defeat.

Ryo heard the guards standing to the side laugh lowly at his predicament, at his youthful, boyish body, and felt fire ignite his face. _Oh gods, please let me die now. Please don't let me live to see what will happen next. Please, just send me into the darkest depths of the Underworld, I will gladly take it over this._

Morinum knelt down and placed his staff to the side, pulling a short length of thin rope from the folds of his tunic. The young general leaned over Ryo and grabbed his wrists roughly, binding them tightly together . All Ryo could do was submit helplessly for fear of his opponent's wrath. He felt the warmth of Morinum's body as it hovered over his own: warm cloth, warm blood. It felt good against his bare and chilled flesh, but nothing on the gods' mount could make him get closer to it.

Once his hands were tied, Ryo stared up into Morinum's expressionless face with a pitiful look. It must have moved the general somewhat, for the young brunette said in a softer voice, "Poor child. You've never known this kind of terror, have you?"

Ryo shook his head and blinked, tears running down the sides of his head.

"You've never lost a battle. Never seen killing and bloodshed of hundreds. Never felt your heart-" He placed his hand upon Ryo's breast. "-pounding and thumping like it wants to flee from your chest."

Ryo sobbed as Morinum crouched over him, left hand running down Ryo's thigh and clutching his flesh with greed. He poised the sword above Ryo's rapidly rising and falling chest.

"I could free your heart for you," he murmured eerily. "Let it beat its way off into that setting sun." He gazed up into the orange rays that saturated the sky. "But then you would never know what it's like to be the spoils of war." He grasped Ryo's shoulders and pulled him upright roughly, throwing the sword to the side and taking him with both hands, rolling him over so that Ryo was on his knees with his back to the general and his hands bound in front of him.

Morinum buried his fist into the dark locks of Ryo's hair and pulled, craning Ryo's neck back so that it met with his hot, moist breath. "This is what we do to defeated rebels like you, to insure that they're too shamed to ever set foot in a battle again."

A knee was between Ryo's legs, parting them wide while the hand knotted in his hair pulled harder, forcing his head upward so that he was staring at the silver, shimmering clouds in an orange and yellow sky. Tears flowed from his eyes like a fountain as he thought that it was the most beautiful sunset, his last sunset, that he had ever seen in his life.

Pain suddenly ripped through his body as he felt something hot and hard force its way into his passage, much too small for something so large. He keened and clenched his teeth as his hair was pulled harder still, forcing him to arch up to keep his neck from being snapped. He never shut his eyes, wondering as he stared at the clouds if the gods were sitting by and watching him be raped in front of them. In front of the earth, in front of the sky, in front of the world. The passing clouds that had witnessed this terrible act, this horrible sodomy of a simple warrior for an act that he could not help committing. Blue eyes burned in desperation as he felt the hard erection of the unforgiving general penetrate him again and again and again and again.

_ Clouds. I am not here. I died today, and I am flying in the clouds..._

Ryo sobbed, trembled and wept. He felt Morinum's chest as it pressed into his back, felt himself tear with each thrust and push; it drove such nails of humiliation and shame into his soul that he would never be able to look his mother in the face if she were still alive. He heard the sick laughter of the guards as they watched, amused by this sight, finding the rape of a young man as something humourous. He heard the grunts of the general in his ear, felt himself die slowly in the poisoned embrace of a false lover, felt the final river of hot release spill into his virgin body and pollute what innocence left that the battle of Troy had not taken.

Ryo continued to stare at the sky long after Morinum had finished with him.

_ Nihil hinc... mori hodie habere. Nunc volare a aer..._


	2. Chapter II Strife

**Chapter II: Strife**

Ryo Sanadus had never been unconscious before, even when he had tripped and fallen on some rocks when he was a child. He could remember it clearly; he had been playing war in a rocky little ravine with his friends when his sandal had slipped on some loose pebbles and he had plunged over backwards, arms flailing. He never screamed. The back of his head struck against a piece of granite and his vision had crossed and gone cockeyed for a few seconds. He felt tired suddenly, then the pain had jolted him wide-awake and he sat up. The damage wasn't bad: a scraped knee, a twisted ankle and a slightly bloody spot on the back of his head. His friends thought he was a deity for taking such a nasty tumble without any majour damage. Of course, his mother wasn't happy at all about the incident and gave him a sound thrashing, warning him to never play in the dangerous ravine again.

Those days seemed to belong to another person now, days of happiness and innocence, things that had once been known and now were lost like leaves in the wind, swept away. The gods only knew what became of them.

Ryo awoke after having fallen in the pavilion dust and slipping into the welcome blackness that was unconsciousness. He had not been struck, he had not been made ill and weak by sickness, but yet he had gone unconscious. Perhaps it was a defensive mechanism, a mental reflex, his body's way of shutting down to heal and endure and attempt to make right again. Or maybe he had just gone into shock.

He found himself in a cell, sunlight filtering down through the bars of a window, glaringly bright and unpleasant. Ryo covered his eyes and sat up, gazing at his surroundings. Hay covered a dirt floor and there were a few blankets that he was laying upon, a poor substitute for sleeping quarters. He shivered, due to the fact that he was still nude--he had even been relieved of his boots and the leather arm guards he had been wearing. Next to the layers of blankets lay his tunic in a crumpled heap. Ryo looked down at his body and felt the bile rise into his throat, covering his mouth and swallowing hard to keep it down.

He looked like a corpse. Black, blue and red had replaced the normal tan as predominant colours of his body. Dried, crusted blood, bruises, scrapes, cuts… he had to look away, shaking terribly, the fear and recollection of what had happened to him still fresh in his mind. He grabbed his tunic and hurriedly pulled it on, as if covering his injuries would make them disappear. _Ab oculus, ab mens._ **[1]**

Ryo felt his body ache all over as he moved, reminding him even more of his tribulation. As soon as he was dressed he sat with his back against the wall and brought his knees to his chest, laying his head down on his arms and trying to control his trembling. He couldn't decide whether it was fear, anxiety or tears of frustration about to be shed. It certainly wasn't from cold; it was very warm in the cell with the sunlight streaming in. He guessed that before too long it would start to get hot and then he would be forced to remove his tunic and face the ugly marks on his body.

He shook even more and felt hot liquid seep from the corners of his eyes. Sunlight fell upon his unruly, dusk-coloured locks and warmed them soothingly, like the hand of a god lightly caressing his hair. This thought comforted him somewhat and he prayed that mercy might soon be granted to him despite the foolish mistakes he had made to result in his current predicament.

Before too long, he heard footsteps outside of his cell and the heavy sound of locks rattling. A guard had come to fetch him, but telling him neither why nor where he would be taking him. He grabbed Ryo roughly from the floor, snapped shackles onto his wrists and neck and led him down a hall lined with cells, jerking him roughly from time to time. Ryo feared he was being led to the slaughter but found to his surprise that he was instead taken to a small bathhouse where he was told to strip and clean the dirt and blood from his body.

Ryo hesitantly removed his tunic and saw the guard's expression of slight amazement out of the corner of his eye, be it for the wounds or Ryo's rather attractive frame. "Rite of the general, eh?" he commented gruffly.

Ryo gulped and looked away, nodding slightly and hoping the guard would not verbally harass him or otherwise. Being left in peace had become a thing to be coveted. Ryo bathed in silence despite his shackled state, washing away the evidence of rape from his skin only partially; the cuts and bruises dealt by unforgiving hands would take many days to heal. The water was tainted with blood and dust by the time he had finished and wrung out his hair; it hung nearly between his shoulder blades when wet. He was given a knee length chiton to put on, not unlike the short military tunic that the Romans were accustomed to, and some sandals as well. Ryo loathed wearing the garb of his enemies, the thing that made him look like one of them.

His hair was still damp when Ryo was escorted from the bathhouse and to a large, open courtyard where well-kept gardens and fountains flourished. _I must be in the king's palace,_ he thought. _But why have they kept me alive this long if not to be sold as a slave or… to finish what's been started?_

The thought of what might become of him filled Ryo with terrible fear, and as the guard led him through the courtyard, those fears were confirmed when he saw Morinum sitting casually on a bench and reading a few parchment documents. He looked up and set the texts aside, rising to his feet. He was dressed simply in an ankle-length chiton and red mantle, looking much less intimidating without his battle armour on. Still, it wasn't as encouraging as Ryo would like; the guard stopped before Morinum and his prisoner shrunk away, keeping his eyes locked to the ground and trying to still his pounding heart and trembling hands.

"Thank you," Morinum said crisply, nodding to the sentry. "You may go."

_ No!_ Ryo's mind screamed in panic. _Don't leave me alone with him! Please!_

The guard nodded and locked the end of Ryo's chain to a slender tree nearby, then departed and left the two generals alone. _Gods, no! No! Let me go with the guard! Let me be flogged or beaten with a club, anything but this!_

"You survived your first night," came Morinum's cool, collected tone. "Admirable, despite your blinding faults. Perhaps it was luck?" He smiled and watched Ryo gravitate toward the tree in defense, purposely keeping his head turned away.

"Perhaps," he said almost silently, struggling to keep from stammering.

Morinum seemed amused. "You're that frightened of me?"

"I'm not frightened of any _man_."

The brunette general looked surprised. "You speak boldly for a person in your predicament, chained to a tree like a dog." He cocked his head and reached forward, stroking Ryo's midnight locks, causing Ryo to jump terribly and begin to visibly shudder. "Is that what you are?" he continued. "A Trojan dog? Will you whimper and beg to me? Will you be a pet to your master?"

Morinum's thumb brushed Ryo's cheek, and the general had to snatch his hand away as Ryo made a daring attempt to bite his hand. Deftly and violently was the disobedient prisoner slapped, where he bit the inside of his mouth instead. Ryo tasted the bitter blood and suddenly his hair was in Morinum's grip, head being pulled up to look the general in the eye.

He was frowning darkly, lines etched between his slender eyebrows as he uttered, "Perhaps my little dog would like to have his mouth sewn shut. It can be arranged. Would it please him?"

Ryo's blue eyes went wide and he shook his head as best he could while having his bangs being pulled taut.

"Then perhaps he will think before he attempts to bite the hand of his master."

_ His master?_ Morinum released Ryo's hair and in stark contrast to his roughness, smoothed it back down gently and stroked it idly. "You really are a lovely boy, Sanadus," the brunette said, almost to himself, eyes roving over his captive's body. "Stupid, careless and insolent boy maybe, but very lovely." Ryo could feel the Greek's gaze burning into his flesh, like being violated from a distance. The Trojan hunched himself protectively against the tree, crossing his arms as best he could with the clinking sound of metal links.

"You know," Morinum said slowly, circling Ryo and his tree like a coyote circles its prey. "Of all the warriors I've conquered, both on the battlefield and in bed…" The general's hand brushed Ryo's thigh. "Young and old alike, be them man or boy…" Two hands now stroked his thighs, gliding up his hips and sides while Morinum pressed close and nuzzled Ryo's soft tendrils, breathed his hot breath onto the skin of the Trojan's neck, voice falling to a hushed murmur. "You were perhaps the most satisfying of them all."

So that was why he was being kept alive. Ryo couldn't stand it-- he would rather kill himself than allow a second traumatising violation of his body to occur. He sprang forward, not in an attempt to flee but just to get the lascivious hands of the general off of him. However, Morinum's arm wrapped around his waist and a dagger was at his throat. Ryo felt the razor sharp tip just barely break the skin of his neck and he began to sob like never before in his life.

It was too much. Why did he have to endure such horrible humiliation? Was it the wish of the gods? Was he being punished for something he had no idea he committed? Why couldn't he just die and be done with? Why did he have to be tortured? Ryo, for the first time in his life, envied the warriors he saw so brutally murdered on the battlefield, some staggering around with knives in their eyes, spears through their necks or torsos, gurgling blood and bile, some sliced nearly in half and some eviscerated but still living, holding their wounds shut to keep their entrails from spilling to the ground. He _envied_ them. He was not made to endure such debasing, horrendous acts. He had always upheld a virtuous, clean and godly life. He would have liked to lave led great battles, rescue captured fellows and maidens, marry a beautiful woman and have beautiful children with her, name the little girl after his mother and the boy after his father… All that was lost now. How could he ever find the courage to fight again after being broken in this way? How could he ever pick up a sword and shield to defend his home and his country? How could he ever become anything more than a commoner or a slave? Why and how, why and how…

Ryo hiccupped and choked for breath between bouts of tears, feeling even worse for weeping for his own discomfort like a selfish child. His family had been murdered, his city uprooted, pillaged and burned, his army defeated, and here he was, crying over his own situation. No wonder he had lost so much, so very much.

A lifetime of miseries, and he was barely twenty-one.

"Silence your tears, Ryo," Morinum murmured, using his first name and removing the blade from his throat. "I would not kill you just yet."

"I know," came the cracked reply. "I am crying because you won't."

There was a brief silence where Morinum sheathed the dagger and combed his fingers through Ryo's hair. "You would like to die, Sanadus?"

"Y-yes."

The brunette sighed in a heavy, exasperated way. "You bloody Romans are all the same, a bunch of suicidal, hot-headed imbeciles obsessed with politics and your aesthetic frivolities. If only there was a way to silence your annoying mouth so as not to distract from this gorgeous flesh…"

Ryo scowled through his tears. "You fouled that gorgeous flesh, Morinum. You poisoned it and cut it and raped it and bruised it and now you stand there and admire it. You make me sick and I hate you!"

Morinum grabbed Ryo's chin in his hand and laughed in his ear. "If I weren't so amused by your feeble attempts at a sound argument, I'd cut that insolent tongue out of your mouth and leave it for the birds to peck to pieces. It would most certainly be a mercy on the ear."

"Your blade doesn't frighten me!"

"Maybe not." Morinum reached down between Ryo's legs and grasped his sex firmly in his hand, groping and massaging it roughly. "But my hand apparently does." Ryo moaned lowly as the hand slipped deeper between his thighs and cupped the warm sac of flesh just below his awakening erection. "Your body seems to like this, Ryo." The brunette murmured.

"The body and mind are two different beings," came the breathless reply.

"I tire of listening to your prattling, boy."

"Then silence me!" Ryo demanded brazenly. "Unsheathe your dagger and bury it in my heart!"

Morinum clutched Ryo's arms possessively and hissed into his ear, "I'd sooner unsheathe my length and bury it in your body." He gave Ryo a violent shake. "Your attempts to discourage me from taking you a second time are in vain. You are nothing more than a stupid little child who carries a general's title and a god's body. Every bounty comes with a price, and I have paid twice of what your pathetic existence is worth; you are now _mine_, Sanadus. I own you. The king gave me right to either kill you or keep you, and I chose the latter that you might serve my need _every single day_ if I see it fit."

Ryo was choking on his sobs as the general's words fell upon his ears and into his head.

"And this is not a temporary imprisonment, Sanadus, I would not be so merciful as that. No, this is neither days nor weeks nor months nor years, this will be for the rest of your _life,_ if I don't go mad from your foolish blithering and sell you to the most ruthless pirates in Greek waters. How would you prefer _that_, eh? To live out the rest of your useless days as the slave of an exalted general or be the sexual bait of a horde of bloodthirsty sea rats who will rape you a hundred times a day, pass you from one to the next like a whore and mutilate you alive before slitting your throat? Do you see how irresponsibly and insanely _merciful_ I am being with you, slave?" Morinum was shouting now to drown out Ryo's feeble sobbing, Ryo, whom thought he had never been so unhappy and miserable before in his life. "Answer me, you Trojan dog!"

"Y-yes," Ryo managed to gasp. Morinum grabbed a fistful of Ryo's hair but before he could pull it, the young man screamed, "Yes! Master!" Morinum released Ryo's hair.

"Perhaps you're not as stupid as you seem. You most certainly know when to obey."

Ryo thought he would gag on the words. His flesh crawled when he felt the general's hands take up where they left off before, caressing him, violating him all over again, making his skin break out in a cold clammy sweat, like stale condensation on the stone walls in the cemetery-scented cellar of his home back in Troy, before it was burnt to the ground so long ago.

"Oh, gods, please," Ryo wept softly, pitifully as he felt the brunette's fingers penetrate his body and spread him open. "Gods, help me…"

"They're not listening to you," Morinum murmured as he forced his erect length into Ryo's tight, confined darkness with painful, awful slowness. "They never were, they never are, and they never will."

As those words settled into his heart, Ryo knew, somehow, someway, by means he could not identify, that the last of his hopes of ever being the same person again had died in the sunlight, chained to a tree in a beautiful garden.

* * *

**[1] **_Ab oculus, ab mens.__Lat_. Out of sight, out of mind.]


	3. Chapter III Childhood

**Chapter III: Childhood**

General Morinum was born of a long line of military blood into a vaguely recognised family, native to the city that would come to be known in later years as Sparta. The city itself was birthed of military ranks and their families, founded on a structure of strict rules and living to serve the Greek army. Sparta was spoken of quite harshly by its neighbours, often being labeled as brutal and culturally, economically and politically stagnant. The Spartans did not care what others thought of them, especially those who called them barbarians and merciless warriors; they knew themselves to be the true inheritors of the Greek tradition.

As the son of a soldier father whose face he never saw, young Morinum was brought up in a life that existed very little outside of discipline, self-denial and simplicity. He had a mother and sister, both potters by trade, thus if even they cared for such things, they did not have the money to surround themselves with luxuries, expensive foods or opportunities for leisure, a thought which was synonymous throughout the Spartan way of thinking.

To them, a constant changes in their civilised (or lack thereof) way of life was seen as the bringer of disorder, weakness, and a decline in morality. However, in a different light, they could be seen as the sustainers of moral values and raw human courage and strength. Life was meant to be simple, disciplined, and perhaps even harsh. Life was not meant to be enjoyed; it was meant to be spent in service, toil and hard labour. It was a part of Spartan ideology, this orientation around the state for which the individual lived, served, and died for. The Spartan life was meant from beginning to end to serve the state, and the combination of this ideology, the strict education of males, and the disciplined maintenance of a ready army gave Sparta its stability and strength which was admired by many countries, if not feared. Austerity made the Spartans a terrifying force.

The military and the city-state was the centre of Sparta's power, its veritable backbone. It was the government who decided if weakling infants were to be cast down into rocky chasms, keeping an institutionalised mentality about weak or sickly children eventually breeding feebleness with the healthy population.

Morinum was born a robust, bouncing babe with a head of reddish coloured locks, inherited by his Scandinavian descendent father who had gone off to a distant war and never returned. He was a handsome child, and would have been recognised as a potential actor or entertainer were he in an actual place that appreciated beauty. He grew and helped his mother and sister with their daily lives and tried to get in a few hours of playtime before bed. He was of fair skin, pale, sea green eyes, a tempered, well-sculpted nose and a mouth that was easy to smile and laugh. His figure had always been slender and tall, and he was full of energy and youth as all young children are. He was quite normal and happy, once upon a time.

Young Morinum was sent to athletic and military school when he was seven and taught to be tough, disciplined, enduring often-severe pain and survival skills. Spartan boys were given minimal rations, just enough to keep them alive, and they were encouraged to steal to compensate. However, if they were caught, they were to be flogged severely; this punishment was not for the act of stealing itself. It was for being foolish enough to get caught. Thus, Morinum and the other amateurs quickly learned to become masters of stealth, or else face the consequences.

Part of his conditioning also called for him to wear no shoes, to be abandoned in the woods and forced to hunt, kill and any means necessary to keep himself alive. Sleep was a luxury. No rest was permitted, no idle, unproductive time allowed. Up before dawn, long hours of strenuous, hard exercise, sparse, tasteless meals, to bed long after nightfall. And he was taught to love every part of it. Anyone too weak or lazy was quickly weeded out from the strong, and Morinum forgot how to fear, forgot how to be weak, how to be merciful. This brutal, almost nightmarish training slowly killed his childhood until it existed no longer, made him callused and indifferent to others' pain and suffering, for he alone knew the _true_ extent of the human thresholds of misery. He became a hard, tactical, efficient stone of a human being.

After thirteen years of intense training, Morinum became a soldier. He spent his life with his fellow comrades, never growing close and never forming any emotional bonds, for the life of a soldier was one of death and strife, always hovering near one or the other. Forming comradeships -and even sexual bonds- with fellow soldiers was highly encouraged by his superiours, but befriending living dead men was something Morinum could easily do without. Thus, he became very solitary and closed away. He lived in his plain barracks; he ate his plain meals day after day after day, occasionally going to battle against neighbouring city-states, the odd group of marauders or vagrant rebels to society, anyone who might even remotely be a threat to the great city of Sparta. Morinum had been taught to forget the concept of self, to become a part of the great machine that was the Spartan army, a machine that thought with one mind, moved as if in one body, and knew nothing of the fear of death. Life was trivial, measured only by how well he could serve his people. Only one wish for Morinum remained, and it was the wish that he would die well in service, defending his country. Living was brutal--death was to be glorious.

Morinum's mother and sister, living with each other and working diligently at their trade, had only enjoyed his sweetness and innocence six out of his twenty years.

The brunette was quickly recognised as a ruthless soldier, a fierce fighter and a brave man, bordering on a deadly recklessness. He passed through the ranks like a flaming chariot: lieutenant, captain, majour, colonel and finally he received the title of general by the age of twenty-four. He soon became known throughout Greece as a soldier to be both feared and respected. He was also very attractive but this quality went unnoticed in the culturally stunted state of Sparta.

King Rowenium, the ruler of a prosperous and civilised monarchy, heard tell of this great general and sent for him with the invitation of being one of the leaders of his vast and powerful army. The Spartan warrior was not swayed by the king's promises of riches, finery or even quarters in the king's own palace. He was swayed by the power of controlling a great and copious army alone. Thus, he left his home city and went to Rowenia.

He found the Rowenian army to be much too soft and undisciplined for his liking; he quickly snapped his lower officers into shape and demanded that someone of Spartan blood be assigned the task of training young recruits. To the Rowenians, Morinum was a madman, a brute, and a glutton for punishment. But in no time, the Rowenian army had become as hard and learned as the Spartan army itself. Rowenium was proud of his new general's accomplishments and commended him lavishly.

As it was and as it went, Morinum spent much of his time with his best soldiers, elite warriors and cunning fighters, scouring the land, mapping the territory, examining trade routes and keeping a sharp lookout for any offense to Rowenia. With Morinum in charge, there might as well have been a wall of protection between Rowenia and the outside world.

Word came to him during this time that his mother, who had been suffering from a weak heart for some years, had passed away. Morinum was a stone on the outside but inside he felt the pain, just those few memories he managed to retain of warm arms and a loving smile, that sympathetic glow of something closer to happiness that he had lived before he became a soldier. He did not attend the funeral or even go home to acknowledge his own mother's death, or comfort his sister. He could not go home; he had severed his life from theirs and was no longer a part of it. So he swallowed his sorrow and continued on with his life.

Since that day, King Rowenium noticed a change his general's attitude, a sullen gloominess that seemed to consume more of his soul every day. He would not eat or sleep for days, then practically drown himself in the poorest wines available, as if trying to rid a bad memory from his mind. The king thought it was a product of loneliness, and sent for the most beautiful maidens of his city to be brought to Morinum in an attempt to soothe his bitterness. Alas, the maidens held no interest to the young general, who had been taught that fleshly indulgences for anything besides the procreation of healthy Spartan babies was a luxury, and therefore restricted. The women reminded him too much of his mother and sister, the only true friends he'd ever had, and the only people who cared for him.

Being taught a life of brutal simplicity and following the rights of his predecessors -and all victorious military leaders- Morinum took to raping his conquered foes, all of them being males. He found that he derived great pleasure from this and thrived on it constantly, going out into battle for the mere sake of ravaging the bodies of his fallen enemies. It was not a luxury; he could easily have any conquered woman he wanted, but by taking the dignity and honour of his enemies in defeating them totally, by having intercourse with the lowest of knaves, he was upholding the Spartan way of life which had so become a part of his mind that it encompassed all he thought about.

But oh, those Trojans. What a lovely lot they were--he thoroughly enjoyed himself when he and other Greek generals rallied together, haunting the countryside for small rebellious armies formed by Trojans who had fled their city a decade before when it was burnt to the ground. He had never seen such beautiful, nubile young men in his life. While other generals were content to take their lot of women and young girls, Morinum gladly indulged in the boys with feverish vigour. The way they cried, the way they begged, the pretty shade of crimson their blood made when spilled on grey marble… it intoxicated Morinum so that it became a questing hunger in him that needed fulfillment and was easily remedied by the nearest virgin boy. He delighted himself for days on the prisoners he had taken, selling them as slaves in the Rowenian open market when he had finished with them. But the violent, defiant and disobedient ones… he laid them open with his sword. Patience was not a virtue that Morinum possessed.

Then came that day when he forced a young rebel to his knees in battle, the most beautiful man he had ever seen, roughly his age, perhaps a few years younger and by decades less learned in warfare. Even as he watched the dark haired Trojan be marched through the gates of Rowenia, he could barely contain his excitement. His skin was so tan and supple, muscular from obvious athletic training, firm yet fleshy. His eyes were so blue, his lashes so long that he almost looked feminine. A small, pretty mouth with full, soft lips and an almost nymphish shaped face, a short nose and a neat chin, so wonderfully boyish and naïve.

But his hair was perhaps this prisoner's most outstanding feature: long, slightly wavy tendrils of solid, lush midnight black that was left wild and unkempt, unrestrained by bands or ties and left to fly wildly into his eyes, cloaking the blue in a blanket of black. Even if Morinum were to sell him in the end, he was determined to have a lock of that gorgeous mane, a token reminder of his most satisfying victory that surpassed the other Trojan boys by immeasurable length.

Morinum later found out his name, and just how lovely the sound of his voice was. That is, when it wasn't boldly lashing out against him. A dark, scratchy murmur it was, still hoarse from puberty that produced the most ear-pleasing cries and moans he had ever heard in his life. If it were any other prisoner, Morinum would have halved the wretch for impudence. But this wild Sanadus boy, this was not just any other prisoner. This was a prize, a boy god that had been delivered into his hand and soon his bed by a stroke of luck. Morinum meant to keep this prisoner, this desirable piece of flesh for as long as time permitted. The boy was so doggedly insolent, so irrespective of the harsh rules that the Spartan had learned early in life, and Morinum knew he must abide by the same rules if he wanted to ever be freed again. Already the boy had proven to have no fear of death, so killing him was out of the question, and Morinum would have to keep a sharp lookout in case Ryo should try to take his own life to end his misery. He would teach his new pet his ways of life and the ways of being an obedient lover or make his life a living hell, of that Morinum was certain.


	4. Chapter IV Friend

**Chapter IV: Friend**

The incident that occurred in the palace garden that day had left Ryo shaken, weak and drained of energy and hope. For the moment, at least, he held no will to fight Morinum as violently as he had done on his first taking. No, Ryo had concluded that fighting in a situation as bleak as this would be useless, a waste of energy and blood. Morinum may admire Ryo's body but he was not afraid to wound it mercilessly; he was perhaps the single most cruelest, horrible, awful person that Ryo had ever encountered in his life.

Later, when Ryo was unshackled from the tree and led away by servants of the palace, they had no doubts about the young Trojan being unwilling to bolt -- his legs were rendered much too weak for running, and his desire and chances for escaping in his recently violated state were nil. For now, at least, he wanted only to be left alone.

He was led to a small mess hall where middle-class servants and the lower palace staff dined, and a generous repast was put before him. The last thing Ryo wanted to do was eat the food of his enemies, but he was too hungry and weak to be defiant at this time; he wolfed his meal down with gusto. His comforting thought was that at least the food would be poisoned so he might be spared the existence that Morinum said was to become of him, but no such luck was to be Ryo's. The food was actually quite good, he thought grudgingly. The bread certainly lacked a Roman taste, but prisoners cannot be choosers.

After that, the servants showed him to his new living quarters on one of the open-air palace halls reserved for guests and travelling noblemen. Sentries stood watch every few metres all along the corridors; it would be hazardous to risk an escape even under the cover of darkness, and soundly impossible in broad daylight. Ryo's heart sunk in despair.

His chambers were at the end of a broad hall, a single room with a chest, a closet, a bed and a desk. The simplicity was made up for in vague finery; the sheets of the bed were soft, the wooden chest and table carved ornately and with great care. There was even a large window, a window without bars, and translucent curtains that wavered in the breeze, pleasantly cooling the interior of the room.

Ryo looked at the servants and said, "You must be mistaken. I'm a prisoner. This is supposed to be a cell."

"Master Morinum gave us orders that you are to be kept here," one servant explained as Ryo cautiously surveyed his living arrangements. "It is obvious that he fancies you and wishes any personal servant of his to live somewhat decently."

Ryo stared out the window. "Are you not afraid that I will escape?"

"Escape is out of the question," the other servant replied in a whisper. "No one has ever fled from these palace walls and lived. Punishment for escape is death without question."

"And what if they won't kill me?" Ryo turned to the servants, who paled.

"Then they will do things to you that will make you wish you were. It is our plea, as one slave to another, don't be so foolish as to jeopardise your well-being."

"You will come to like it here," the other servant added with a nod. "King Rowenium is gracious and fair-"

"He certainly wasn't to _me_," Ryo snapped.

"Don't speak ill of the king," one said severely. "We could be worse off in a thousand other places than here. _Spartans_ could have captured us! We consider it a mercy of the gods that they delivered us into the hands of _these_ enemies."

"How can you say that!" Ryo cried. "Were you not soldiers, men of valour? What became of your loyalty, your honour, your dignity?"

They were quiet before one servant replied, "All things must come to pass one day. You will see for yourself."

Ryo was shocked. As the servants left, they heeded: "Believe our word on escaping. There are guards all over this palace. If you are truly daring, try it once and see how useless it really is."

And they were gone, closing the heavy wooden doors behind them. Ryo was finally left alone and in silence. Sunshine fell on the marble floor and he heard birds singing in the open courtyard. He gazed out the window again. It was beautiful: green gardens and marble statues, fountains, flowers… what was a hell creature like Morinum doing in such a heavenly place like this? Was this really the home of his sworn enemies, the same people who murdered his family? Why couldn't they live in a dark, stinking pit at the bottom of the earth like he envisioned them to be? It didn't fit. He didn't understand.

Then a horrifying thought was conceived in his mind: what if _he_ was the evil spawn of hell? What if _they_ were the good, pure-hearted people? Ryo recalled living as an orphaned, nomadic outcast, enemy to everyone and anything. He had lived like a troll of the earth, hiding in crevices and caves with the rest of his ilk and planning attacks by torchlight, thirsty for blood and justice.

Ryo clenched his fists. He thought he was doing the right thing by seeking vengeance for his family. Was his family wicked and evil? Why else would the gods let them die so horribly? Was it their wish? And then he asked himself a question he had never asked before: what had Troy done to be burnt to the ground in the first place? Perhaps some evil deed had been performed against the heavenly and wonderful Greeks to make them take Troy by force and destroy it. To Ryo, the Greeks had simply appeared on the horizon, infiltrated their city walls and began to kill and wreak havoc. But was there a _reason_ behind this, a reason that justified the death of his family and his capture by a perverse and cruel-hearted general? What if Ryo Sanadus was the _true_ enemy here?

The thought was too much for him; Ryo threw himself down on the bed and curled up into a shivering ball, wounded both inside and out. It felt like his heart was bleeding and filling his chest with blood as heavy as molten lead.

_ It can't be true, it can't. Gods above, please tell me it can't be true..._

And with this prayerful mantra, the young man slowly drifted off into a fitful slumber.

* * *

"You're making a great row over nothing, Milos, you blockhead."

"My orders are to-"

"Oh, piss on your orders. Let me see him, you great, ignorant, braying ass!"

"Morinum will have your head on a pike, you know!"

"His _Majesty_ will have _your_ head on a pike if I so much as break a sweat, now stand aside, Odourus Maximus."

Ryo awoke with a start to the sounds of a petty argument outside his chamber doors. He raised his head and noticed that the sun had nearly sunk below the horizon. Had he been asleep that long? Before he could do any more, his chamber doors opened slightly and a tall, slender blond in a pale green chiton walked boldly in and stopped before Ryo's bed, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the dark haired young man.

"You must be Sanadus," he said in a pleasant tenor. "Morinum's new drudge?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The blond strode closer and leaned down, face to face with Ryo. "My, where did _you_ come from?" the stranger asked in an amazed tone. "I've never seen such eyes."

Ryo scooted away and the blond sat down comfortably on the bed. He was a young man about the same age as Ryo himself, maybe a year or two older, and dressed in long chiton cloven partially up the sides, but made of much finer fabric that Ryo's. His skin was fair and pale as a goddess's, his golden locks wavy and worn wild about his face, covering one of his eyes and giving him a foreign, exotic look. A thin headlace of gold was looped about his crown, a small emerald resting on his fair forehead. His eyes, or the eye that Ryo could see as the other one was covered by the golden tendrils, was a very pale blue, almost lavender if in the right light. And a fitted gold band encircled the blond's throat, small, but it was obvious that he was someone of great importance. To mince words, he was gorgeous. Ryo found himself staring and quickly blinked, averting his gaze.

"Don't worry," the pale youth said with a warm smile. "That's everyone's reaction to me."

"Who are you?" Ryo asked.

"I am Dathae," came the reply. "And I am the King's lover."

Ryo's eyes widened and Dathae chuckled gently. "Don't look so surprised. Your eyes are the size of plates. Lovely shade of blue, though." His eyes travelled down where the hem Ryo's wrinkled garb was unknowingly showing off his hip and thigh. "Oh my, you _are_ lovely. No wonder you're being treated so grandly."

Ryo checked himself and pulled the naughty hem down, turning pink in the cheeks. "Wh-why are you here?" he asked cautiously, fearing the worst.

Dathae shrugged simply, his manner quite casual and friendly. "Gossip and newcomers are the fun around here. I don't do much aside from serve wine occasionally at royal banquets and keep a warm spot in His Majesty's bed." He smiled and then sighed tragically, "Life gets very dull around here."

Ryo processed this slowly, his gaze drifting to the wooden doors. "I heard you arguing outside," he whispered. "You would dare speak to an armed guard that way?"

"Ha!" Dathae burst loudly. "Milos is nothing but a bully. I know all the guards in this palace by name, and this necklace I wear signifies that I am a possession of His Majesty. They wouldn't dare to touch me unless they wish to be dealt the wrath of Rowenium." Dathae leaned back on his hands and tossed his golden hair with a princely air. "It's delightful teasing them sometimes. Soon you'll be able to do it too, and then we can run around and cause great hell together, it'll be exciting!"

Ryo was mortified at the thought of enjoying himself while being imprisoned by his enemies. "But Morinum is a devil. H-he'll make my life miserable!"

"He's nothing but an emotionally stunted war monger," Dathae snorted.

"Have you seen what he's _done_ to me?" Ryo held his arms out to the blond so that he might see the bruises and cuts administered by the cruel general's hands. "My torso looks even worse. He's a monster."

"You've lived through the worst of it. In his eyes, you've been broken," Dathae insisted. "Don't fear. It's not so bad here, you will learn. Sure, we might never know freedom's embrace but that's a small price to pay to live so well. Do you know how many Rowenians would kill to be in my position?" He winked.

"I'm sure they would," the Trojan murmured gloomily. "The King is surely more lenient and kindly with you."

Dathae looked slightly guilty for a few moments, reached over and patted Ryo's hand. "There now. I'm sure you'll adapt in no time."

"I don't want to _adapt_," Ryo snarled, whisking his hand away. "I want to get out of here. I'm a Trojan. My city was destroyed, my family murdered, and I must have my vengeance."

"Well, you're certainly not going to accomplish any sort of mission working as an enemy," Dathae retorted, then lowered his voice to a hush. "You're at an advantage now. You're inside the palace walls. Would not that be a great place to begin planning an attack?"

Ryo drew away in shock. "You would suggest I rise against my enemies in their own territory, against the King, your lover?"

"You think I'm his lover by choice?" Dathae said bitterly. "I am not a native of Rowenia-- I'm an Athenian, kidnapped out of my own land by ruthless traders and brought here to be sold as a slave. Luckily, I was an audience to His Majesty that day and he instantly bought me and made me his own. Of course, his wife is another story." Dathae grinned broadly. "She despises me since Rowenium prefers me to her. Why, even on their wedding night he lay with me instead." The blond frowned. "She's not the only enemy I've made since my time is of Spartan blood, and the cities of Athens and Sparta have been feuding for quite a few years now. It drives him mad that the refuse he calls enemy should receive his lord's lavish attention. Still, he would not dare to harm me."

"He'd dare to harm _me_," Ryo said quietly, rubbing the now scabbed slash on his upper thigh from his own sword. "He already has."

Dathae sighed sadly and took Ryo's hand in his own. "You must learn to obey him. Pride is a hard thing to break."

"You're my enemy, too," the raven-haired young man muttered. "All Greeks are my enemies, the slayers of my family and the destroyers of my home."

"And I'm certain you saw _me_ holding the sword to your mother's throat," Dathae said sarcastically. "I had no part in the destruction of your life, so don't blame me for my people's doing."

There was a long silence between them as the notion became apparent to Ryo. "I'm sorry, Dathae," he said softly after some time had passed.

"No harm done. And please, call me Sage."

"Alright," Ryo said, feeling somewhat better. "Have I made a friend today?"

"I hope so," Sage laughed. "I have no company with whom to preoccupy myself, so I've taken to befriending Morinum's lot. Sad to say, most of them didn't last very long…" He noticed the terrified look in Ryo's eyes and added hastily, "But I can tell by the way he treats you already that you're going to stay for a long while! That is… if you obey him and do as he wishes."

Ryo looked nauseated. "He wishes the worst of me. H-he does dastardly, ungodly things to me. I can't stand him. I will never obey him without feeling a traitor to my heart, my family and my country."

Sage nodded. "Bear those burdens, but bear them silently. Your life and freedom may very well depend upon it."

Ryo nodded sullenly and turned his head to stare out the window. The first dark blue colour was beginning to tint the heavens and the sparkling cosmos to slowly appear. Sage intertwined his fingers with Ryo's like already they were lifelong friends and stood. "Come along. I'll show you around the palace so you're not bumbling about and having to be led everywhere by those incompetent servants."

Ryo stood and followed the blond reluctantly, colouring slightly as to be holding hands with another young man like children often did. "But won't I get in trouble?" he inquired.

Sage smiled. "When you're with me, you're sheltered by the King's own hand. I'll not let anything happen to you, Ryo."

At the first mention of his name, the young Trojan felt his heart give a little double-beat. Perhaps, he thought, the gods had finally decided to grant his poor soul a little mercy in this hellish chapter of his life.


	5. Chapter V Concede

**Chapter V: Concede**

The same evening that Sage Dathae befriended Ryo, Morinum was having an unofficial conference with his officers to discuss the efforts being made to stamp out the remains of the Trojan resistance, when a servant brought news that the King requested an audience with him immediately. Morinum was thrown into a vile mood on the spot, hating to be interrupted in the middle of an important meeting to go see what useless favour the meddlesome, annoying boy king would ask of him. The servant certainly didn't like being the bearer of the news and fairly scampered off like a frightened hare after the message had been delivered. Morinum excused himself and made his way from the military wing of the palace to the king's hall, footsteps falling ominously in the marble like an angry titan's.

Rowenium, surrounded by a few of his attendants, was reading parchments for some manner of legalities when Morinum entered the large room, bowed slightly and greeted, "Your Majesty."

The fair king smiled and put aside the documents, adjusted his deep violet mantle that was the colour signifying royalty, and bade, "Pleased to see you, General. Have a seat, won't you."

Morinum sat across from the azure-haired young king and waited silently, trying not to look too annoyed, impatient to get back to his own matters. Rowenium took his seat and leaned back casually, gazing at Morinum in vague amusement for some time before asking quite unexpectedly, "Are you happy, General?"

The brunette warrior frowned. "I do not understand, your Majesty."

"A simple question, Morinum. Are you happy?"

"I am sufficiently provided for, sire. Is that not enough?"

The king sighed heavily. "I know that you are not one to partake in the finer pleasures that life has to offer, yet I can't help but think that there is something that can be done to improve your character."

"And what fault do you see in my character, your Majesty?" the general said in an offended tone.

"You know it as well as I do, Morinum, that you are a shrewd and harsh soul."

"It is a trait which I cannot help."

"But surely, there is something that you must desire other than a respected, industrious existence."

"To ask anything more would be an overindulgence, sire," Morinum said. "I do not place value on material possessions and I am indifferent to finery."

"Even gold? Jewels, maidens, conquest?" Rowenium suggested blindly.

"None of those appeal to me, your Majesty. I am certain you know the way of my people-"

"Yes, yes, yes," the king said with a rolling of blue eyes. "Spartan living and all that. By the gods, it's as if your people were intended to be miserable for the length of your lives."

"If misery produces progress, then I have no qualms with being unhappy, sire."

Rowenium exhaled hopelessly. "That's exactly the kind of answer I was expecting." He shifted his weight and rested his chin on the back of his hand. "So, what became of that troublesome young Trojan?"

A ghost of a smile graced Morinum's lips and he replied, "I took him, sire."

The king's eyebrows arched up once and then down hopelessly. "That was a rather pointless inquiry of me; have you been rid of him?"

"No, your Majesty. I have decided to keep him."

"Ah, I see," Rowenium murmured. "You must be fond of him. I'm glad to see you've at least settled down with a single lover now."

"I do not love, your Majesty. I only admire his body."

The young ruler looked somewhat shocked. "You only admire his body? He still struggles when you have intercourse, then?"

"He makes sex with him a pleasure every time, sire."

"And you derive pleasure from raping young men?"

"If I may say, your Majesty, I derive pleasure in dealing what must be dealt to my enemies."

"Hn." Rowenium looked slightly perplexed. "At this point I'll be amazed if the Trojan can wring any shred of human emotion out of you… does it make you happy to rape him?"

"No." Morinum said flatly.

"Then why do you keep him if he does not make you happy?"

"Surely your Majesty is aware of a man's needs and his earthly instincts."

King Rowenium frowned slightly, rubbing his chin. "That I am, General. That I am."

"The boy satisfies me more than the other prisoners of war ever had. One by one, they quickly bowed down to submission before me and the excitement was lost. But this one… this one is a live fire. I take him with delight each time."

"He brings you pleasure?" Rowenium asked with an arched brow.

"He fulfills what I demand to be fulfilled, no more, no less, your Majesty. You would say he is an adequate object that serves out my allotted pleasure without violating my strict code of ideology."

"And how long do you plan on keeping this one chained to your bed, Morinum?"

The general smirked. "He has much vigour and passion, your Majesty, still defiant even after I've broken and bruised him. There is a part of him which I strive to conquer, and until I do just that, I shall enjoy his body and the satisfaction it brings me."

The king shook his head sadly. "It is not uncommon for males to take male lovers in this land," he said. "But I feel that somehow, even though Sanadus is an enemy, even _he_ does not deserve this immoral treatment."

Morinum stiffened. "You would like for me to cease my indulgence of him, sire?"

"You would kill him surely if I were to request such a thing. You may continue your use of him. Still… he may be careless, but he's just a boy who doesn't know who his true enemies are. I can only ask that you spare him your most violent acts upon his body, Morinum. You don't have to heed it, but I cannot tolerate the thought of unnecessary and apparent misery being born in my kingdom."

"I will try, your Majesty." Morinum paused. "Might I beg your dismissal, sire?"  
Rowenium shrugged and stood. "Yes, very well. You are dismissed, General."

"Thank you, sire." And Morinum rose from the table and turned to leave.

"Ah, just one more question."

Morinum mentally snarled and turned around slowly with a very begrudging look.

King Rowenium squinted his eyes. "Have you no concept of mercy, Morinum?"

"No, sire. Not for my enemies."

The king nodded slightly and a brief silence fell.

"May I be excused n-"

"Right, right," Rowenium remembered hastily. "Off with you as you please, General."

Morinum bowed slightly and left the room impatiently, eager to get back to his officers. When he had gone, the king crossed his arms and shook his head sadly. "What a pathetic man," he murmured.

At the same time, Morinum stomped down the hall from his royal rendezvous angrily and muttered, "What an imbecile."

* * *

"…and this wing right here is where all the meetings are held, mostly military planning or small judicial matters. The king has his own meeting hall but it's rarely used unless it's some type of dire emergency," Sage was saying, leading Ryo by the hand through the great halls of the palace. Already Ryo felt comforted by the slender blond's acquaintance; he was very amicable, pleasant, sympathetic and generous. He seemed to know a lot about the city and its people, and Ryo inquired hesitantly, "How long have you lived here, Sage?"

The young man paused as he counted. "About five years."

"Did you ever think about escaping?"

"At first, but after a while it didn't seem like I was that bad off being here." He smiled and led Ryo around a corner, where they nearly collided with a very disgruntled General Morinum. Ryo went stark white and clenched Sage's hand tightly in his own. The brunette warrior looked surprised at first, then annoyed, then ominous as he set his gaze upon the golden haired Athenian. He narrowed his eyes at Sage and curled his lip in a sneer.

"Fancy running into _you_, Dathae, with your ankles below your head, no less," he growled. "How goes your position as royal slut?"

"Fancy seeing _you_ here, Morinum, with your face in plain view where it can frighten the children. How goes your position as notorious ravager of innocence, hm?"

Ryo was mortified at his new friend's sassy and bold retort and hovered close to Sage's body. Morinum stepped close and the Trojan fairly ducked behind the blond's unmoving and protective shield. "And what business do you have frolicking about the palace with my property?"

"What business do you have dishonouring him repeatedly? Have you not violated him enough today?"

"He's mine. I defeated him, I _own_ him."

"And Sparta defeated _you_, have you not checked ownership with _them_?"

"How dare you speak to me in that insolent manner," Morinum fumed.

"How dare you corrupt an innocent in that merciless manner," Sage bit back.

The two young men stared each other down hatefully before Morinum finally leaned down close and muttered, "Don't give him any ideas, Dathae." His words seemed to drip poison and he brushed past them and continued his route down the hall.

Ryo turned to stare at the General's departing back and finally got his trembling hands to be still and calm.

"Cantankerous old bastard," Sage snapped, making an ugly face in the general's direction. "Has nothing better to do than lurk around like an ogre and kill people. That's all he's good for, anyway. Murderous son of a bitch." The blond about faced and lifted his long chiton, baring his buttocks and waving it around at the oblivious Morinum. "Royal slut _this_, you damnable cur! One hundred percent, white-meat, Athenian gluteus maximus!" He whispered fiercely with some crude chuckles escaping his lips. He looked quite silly and immature for someone of his age.

Ryo was about to faint; he grabbed Sage's arm and dragged him around the corner, out of sight, out of _Morinum's_ sight, and begged, "Please! Don't do that again! He might have heard you."

The Athenian shrugged. "So what. He can't do anything to me."

"He can to _me_."

Sage's expression grew serious. "That thought never occurred to me. I'm sorry, Ryo. Thank you for stopping me before I could do anything worse."

Ryo reddened. "What could be worse than what you've already done? I've never seen or heard such vulgar body language." The dark haired young man cracked a shy smile. "It was rather funny."

Sage laughed pleasantly and latched his arm around Ryo's shoulders. "The art of mischief is a fine and worthwhile one. I shall train you to be a master mischiefer and soon you and I will be driving the palace guards to the den of Hades!"

He met Ryo with a blank stare. "Hades?" he asked.

"Er… ah. The den of Jupiter… Mars, or what have you. The keeper of the underworld."

"You mean Pluto," Ryo said.

"Er, yes. Pluto. Tell you what; we'll do it half and half and just call him Plades."

"Huto!"

"Huto it is, then!" Sage laughed. "Our god of the underworld, the product of a Trojthenian conjugation!"

"Or is it Athojan?" Ryo jested, and smiled for the first time in days. The blond noticed and placed a loving kiss on the dark haired boy's cheek, keeping a close arm about his shoulders.

"I have a feeling we'll be great friends, Ryo."

"And I, as well." But Ryo's heart was not entirely behind the statement; looking out between the white columns of the open air hall into the cool darkness of night, he sighed restlessly and felt the cold fingers of fear creep up his spine as he thought that soon he and Sage would have to part for the evening and return to their chambers. That meant being alone again. With Morinum on the prowl, the hellish general who had already put a lifetime of fear and torment into his young soul. The black haired Roman shivered and looked away.

Friend or no, he was going to _have_ to find a way out of Rowenia, even if it meant risking everything his mortal life had to offer.

* * *

Across the sea to the east, many, many miles away, a young Roman sat away from the warm campfires of his comrades and gazed up at the stars with a heavy heart. His thoughts lingered on the battle of a few days past, a battle he was so certain would be won. Alas, they had not counted on the Greeks being so skilled, especially the Rowenians that had taken his general and best friend prisoner. He should have fought harder; it was his entire fault that they took Ryo and much of their beaten army. If he had been there he might have been able to knock away the soldiers who swamped him and they could have beaten a retreat… but alas, he had been too busy fighting to stay alive to help his comrade. And now, the gods only knew what became of him. The fellow Trojan held very little hope of ever seeing his best friend again.

"Khristos?" came a feminine voice, and the dark haired youth turned and saw a young woman approaching slowly.

"Yes, Mia?"

She stopped a few feet away and wrapped her cloak around her body to ward off the night air. "It is too cold to be this far from the fires. Why don't you come back and get some rest? I can't remember the last time I saw you sleep."

Khristos Faunus shook his head. "No fire can warm my soul. I lost him, Mia. I let him be taken and I called the retreat too soon. Perhaps if we had fought a little bit longer, Ryo could have broken free and would be here with us now…"

"You can't blame yourself for what happened. If you hadn't called for a retreat then many of our warriors would have died." Her face was sad. "And we need as many of them as we can get. Ryo was aware of that; he would be proud of you for doing such a noble action. You know how self-sacrificing he is."

"It makes it all the more unbearable, knowing what a good man Ryo was… _is_," Khristos murmured. "His heart is too vast. I fear what might become of it in the hands of our enemies."

Mia sighed and took a seat next to her friend, sharing her cloak with him. "Take heart, Khristos. We are all sad over the loss of Ryo. You're to take over for him since you are next in the line of command. You must see to it that justice is dealt, for Ryo's sake."

The stout, strong young man let his gaze fall to the ground. "You speak of him as if he's already dead."

"We don't know, do we?" Mia whispered sorrowfully, resting her head on Khristos' shoulder. "He's in the hands of his enemies in a far off land, over seas, over hills, over valleys… but there is always hope that perhaps his enemies were merciful and one day he'll wind his way back to us."

"You sound so convinced," he said sarcastically.

Mia sighed. "We have to keep hope alive for the resistance. They just lost their best general and have no one to guide them now. We need to recover quickly and form a new plan before our enemies have time to attack again."

Khristos nodded, and the two sat in silence for a long while. The night was crisp and cool, and the stars shone bright and many, scattered across the sky like celestial jewels. They listened to the crickets chirp in the nearby wood and the voices of their comrades in the warm circle of light not too far off.

"Did you love Ryo?" Khristos asked at length.

"As I love you all," she replied. "Since the burning of Troy, you have become my family: my brothers, my friends, my children. Every time I see one of our warriors fall, a new sorrow finds its way into me. Still, we must go on. For the sake of brothers, friends and children to come. It's what Ryo would have wanted."

Khristos nodded slightly and looked to the stars. "What Ryo would have wanted…"

* * *

"Well, I suppose that's all I can show you for tonight," Sage said breathlessly, pausing in his tour when he noticed Ryo beginning to show signs of tiring. "I assume you would care to partake in the evening meal at this time?"

Ryo nodded. "Yes, that sounds good."

"Hmm…" the blond Athenian murmured, rubbing his bottom lip. "Caste forbids dining among those of lower rank, but since you have yet to receive a title in the palace, I am sure we'll be given no grief. After all, we both serve the same purpose, correct?" He smiled craftily and nudged the Trojan in the ribs jokingly. "We're both technically slaves of a higher purpose, and I invited you, so fie to those who object. Come, we'll dine in the common hall. Less chance of a row being started there."

And Sage led them to the hall where Ryo had been earlier that day, hassled the cooks good naturedly to prepare a quick meal and sat down at a table together. And for some reason, Ryo didn't feel quite like eating now. He was too busy thinking to be hungry. How was he ever going to get out of here? Every place that Sage had led him seemed to be guarded or closed off. He could only imagine how heavily guarded the palace grounds must be. Perhaps it really _was_ futile to attempt to escape.

"You're not eating, Ryo," Sage commented, pointing to his untouched plate. "Is something the matter?"

Ryo stared at his meal with disinterest. "I… it's just going to be so hard to escape from here. I don't know what to do."

"The main issue of importance right now is keeping yourself alive," the young blond said. "Survive first, escape later. And try to incorporate some plans and strategy in between the two."

Ryo smiled, feeling truly grateful for having met Dathae. He seemed so rational and cool, precisely the sort of thing that Ryo lacked in a captured-panicked situation. The Athenian, though an enemy, was very much in the same predicament as Ryo, but that did not halt his quickly forming comradeship. Ryo wondered if they were both to escape if they would still remain friends after this. Was it possible? Or was this friendship temporary, a mere alliance of enemies against a greater enemy? Or was it a true, real friendship?

Ryo's thoughts drifted to his brother in arms, Khristos Faunus. The two had been childhood friends, grown up together, survived Troy together, become warriors together, bled together, cried together. He feared that Khristos had already acknowledged his death, and hoped that he would find the strength to recuperate and build the resistance back to its pre-disastrous state. If only he were there now, if only he had some way to tell his friend that he was alive and all right, to keep faith and the lives of the resistance warriors alive. If only, if only…

Tears began to form in Ryo's eyes and he lowered his head, picking at his dinner of fish and bread so as to distract his mind and perhaps staunch his tears before they could flow.

Sage saw the dam of tears and said nothing, not wanting to disturb. Sometimes nothing could be said or done to stop them; they needed to be shed.

At length, Ryo choked, "Thank you."

"For what?" the blond asked.

Ryo shrugged. "Must one always inquire upon receiving thanks?"

Sage shook his head. "I understand. You're welcome, Ryo."

* * *

After they had finished their small evening meal, Sage led Ryo back to his room and bade him a good night, promising to visit in the late morning if he didn't have certain "royal matters" to attend to. At that, the Athenian left Ryo with the guard Milos, who gruffly cursed the departing blond under his breath and closed Ryo's bedroom door behind him.

Ryo sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around himself before noticing that there was a small olive lantern burning on his desk. There was a shift in the shadows, and he turned around to see the dark silhouette of Morinum sitting on his bed and staring at him silently.

Ryo would have considered himself blessed by the gods if he were to faint in sheer terror, to be spared the trauma for a retribution of an act he had no idea he committed. Alas, he remained cognizant and conscious, fear running rampant through his pounding heart. A scream was born in his throat but died before it could escape his lips, afraid of the general's punishing hand for creating such a din. Still, he cried, "Mor-! M-Master…" And he went absolutely still, fearing that moving an inch would bring forth some kind of horrible beating from the perpetually angry-looking Spartan, who stood to his feet and strode over to the trembling young man in the middle of the floor. Ryo turned his face away in loathing and fear.

When at last they stood chest to chest, a long and brutal silence fell. The Trojan could feel Morinum's eyes burning into his body like fiery hot coals and he clenched his fists spasmodically at his side, shaking, trembling, his heavy breathing audible in the quiet room. Ryo flinched when the general's hand came up to begin petting his hair in a distant and remotely affectionate way, like one would pet a dog or a cat. Morinum's other hand slipped around Ryo's slender waist, and the brunette leaned down and said in an ominous whisper, "Do not think for one moment that Dathae can protect you from me. _No one_ can protect you from me." Shock, fright, horror, everything falling away at once… it struck Ryo and he began to shed silent tears. Morinum pressed his lips to Ryo's ear and murmured darkly, "You are mine, Ryo Sanadus."

And with that, the hand around Ryo's waist pulled him close and Morinum's mouth descended upon the dark haired young man's earlobe, sucking it into a hot wetness and biting it just enough to hurt terribly without actually drawing any blood. Ryo whimpered and felt his knees begin to shake and weaken, wanting to fall out from underneath him.

_Shame, the shame, humiliation… gods, help me, get this man off of me, he shouldn't be doing this to me, why me? Why is he so cruel, why does he have to hurt me, why can't he be like Sage? He's hurting me and I want to scream-- can't scream or he'll hurt me more… gods, why are you letting this happen? Is there no end to my suffering…?_

Ryo placed his hand on the brunette's chest and slowly began to push away. Morinum grabbed his wrist and uttered, "Do not attempt to resist me again or I shall do things to you to make you wish for death more than ever before."

"Why are you doing this to me!?" Ryo blurted desperately, sounding very much like a frightened child. "What unforgivable act have I ever committed against to you!?"

The Spartan general took Ryo's chin in his hand and held it firmly, murmuring, "I cannot tolerate insolence, but since I am not able to punish Dathae for his sharp mouth, I shall have to punish you. I do it because I can..." Thumb and finger dug hard into cheeks, a dull slow pain, forcing Ryo's jaw open. "...and because I want to." He brought his face down and put his mouth on Ryo's, tongue forcing its way into his mouth and deeply molesting it, claiming it as its own. The Trojan fought to keep from gagging, screaming, choking, sobbing, any of the thousand things he felt like doing now, suppressing the urge to instinctively lash out as was in his warrior's nature, to hold back and submit to a man mightier than he, a man who had already conquered him in every conceivable way.

Morinum wrestled Ryo over to the bed and forced him onto it, pinning him down and lifting the hem of Ryo's chiton over his hips, baring the young Roman's sex. Slowly the general pried apart Ryo's thighs, opening him up like a stubborn oyster. He settled in between his legs, sitting back and lifting the younger man's hips over his own thighs; the brunette lifted his own tunic skirt, revealing a rapidly hardening erection. As he pulled him closer, Ryo could feel Morinum's phallus press against the tender flesh below his testicles, prodding, probing and searching for an entrance. He sobbed and gripped the thin sheets of the bed with his fists, bracing himself for the searing pain.

It came slowly, finding his tightly clenched orifice and sliding in torturously. Ryo's fingers clutched the sheets, desperately attempting to anchor himself down so that he might fight back, resist this alien intrusion that was slithering into his body. The young Roman lifted himself slightly using his stomach muscles, and in coincidence tightening the confines of his inner body, hoping to make Morinum's lustful feat more difficult to attain. The Spartan barely grinned, aware of Ryo's attempts, and leaned his hips forward, pressing harder, sliding deeper, producing a horrific pain that made Ryo scream in anguish and fall back to the mattress a wounded and hurting man. Swallowing his sobs, Ryo could do nothing but lie passively and let the general take what he wanted of him like a whore.

Once, Ryo Sanadus was a respected man. Once he was a brave warrior. Now here he was, reduced to a crying, whimpering slut that bowed before a mightier man than he. His pride had passed away now, leaving nothing but a horrible feeling of self-contempt and dirtiness that could never be washed away, not even in the hottest of waters. This feeling was only enhanced by Ryo's discovery that during this contemptible sexual act, he himself had become aroused. He felt betrayed by his own body, and instantly hated it. He wished he were hideous, an ogre, a troll, something so ugly and offensive to the eye that no one in their right mind would wish to have intercourse with it. At least then he wouldn't be in this situation.

_I must be beautiful, then._

But facts were facts and here he was, with Morinum between his legs, pulling Ryo's clothes off of him and rocking his hips forward and back with a dutiful, malicious silence, clutching the backs of Ryo's knees as he drove in and out, stretching the Roman's entrance painfully and causing trickles of blood to run down and smear on the bed and his thighs. And here was Ryo, biting his lip to hold back the moans of reluctant ecstasy clawing at his lungs, demanding birth at all costs. He could see his own full erection over the muscular rise in his chest, blood-swollen and dripping with his heady essence and he thought, _I hate myself._

Morinum's thrusts became more frequent, more forceful, and he growled, "Cry for me, won't you, Sanadus, and this task might be completed that much quicker."

Ryo didn't wish to cry, he had no desire to do anything of what that hideous general asked of him, but when Morinum buried his length to the hip inside of him, the Ryo shrieked in both misery and ecstasy, back arching up off the mattress repeatedly as his warm seed spattered onto his stomach and Morinum's.

The Spartan smiled down at his quarry superiourly, pressing Ryo's legs against the sides of his body and leaning down to clasp the pebbly, dark nipples in his hungry mouth, sucking and biting in succession. Ryo moaned wretchedly and hoped that Morinum would not kiss him again. His saliva burned like vinegar and had saturated Ryo's tongue like a deadly poison.

Alas, the brunette grasped Ryo's face in his hand and forced his lips apart, plunging in yet again and dominating the Trojan's tongue with his own, still making short thrusts into him. Ryo thought for sure that his body was going to be broken that night, torn and groped and bitten and bruised and sucked and spread… so many things that had never been done to him before and dreamed never would be. For a long while Morinum busied his mouth on Ryo's lips, his throat, his shoulders, his collar, at the same time groping and kneading the flesh of Ryo's torso with hard, merciless hands. And before too long, Ryo felt the hot flood of semen spill into him, oozing all throughout his passage and coating it like a slippery well. The young man sobbed openly and shamelessly now since his last shred of pride and dignity was gone.

Morinum sat up and pulled away, leaving Ryo's abused cavity with a sickening wet suction, slippery with blood and sperm. Ryo felt the excess begin to run in slow, warm rivulets down into his crevice and onto the sheets below him. And he lay there, shivering and disgusted by himself and what he was feeling. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to touch himself. He didn't want to be reminded that he had a body, a temple of his soul that had just been defiled and ravaged. He closed his eyes and prayed for death the hundredth time since he had come to be in this place, this hell, this holy living hell.

Ryo closed his eyes and listened to Morinum move about in his room, adjusting his tunic, running and hand through his hair, cleaning the signs of sex from his person. Then, for a while, silence fell and Ryo winced as he assumed that the general must have been looking at him, a naked young man lying on a disheveled bed, smeared with blood and sweat and semen. Ryo held his breath, hoping that Morinum would think he were dead, but Ryo could not hold his breath that long and was forced to exhale slowly.

After this had signified that his slave was still alive, Morinum left Ryo alone in his room, shutting the doors behind him. Ryo listened to his disappearing footsteps before breaking down, rolling over gingerly and burying his face into the mattress, screaming his sobs and trying to breathe through the sheets. He smelled his hair, Morinum's sweat, felt the marks of the general all over his body, ugly, tingling, poisoned marks in the shapes of hands, fingerprints, fluid, scratches and bites. Anger had no place in Ryo any longer; only sorrow, agony and misery existed where once life, hope and love flourished.

"Gods…" Ryo choked in the flickering light of the lamp. "Why have you forsaken me?"

And a breeze flowed into his room, rustling the curtains and soundly extinguishing the fragile flame of the lamp.

Darkness and cold shadows slowly crept in and soundlessly conquered all.


	6. Chapter VI Endure

**Chapter VI: Endure**

It was late in the morning when Dathae visited Ryo's chambers as he said he would, taunting the guard who had taken over the watch shift, Baddeus Thaddeus as he was nicknamed by the Athenian. The disgruntled sentry informed him that Ryo had gone to the bathhouse earlier and had yet to return. Dathae, perhaps a little more than worried about Ryo attempting to drown himself, made tracks for the baths.

He found a female attendant keeping a watchful eye on Ryo, who was immersed to his nose in one of the large in-floor tubs, hair drenched, face solemn and unmoving. Sage approached timidly and sat down at the poolside. For a while, neither said a word. Already Sage had deduced from the silence that Ryo had undergone another round of abuse with Morinum, that and from the fact that the young Roman had his arms wrapped around himself as if to ward off some internal chill. Even through the water his wounds were still visible, some fresh, others old, like the slashes from the duel in the pavilion a few days before, which were still scabbed and had yet to heal. Ugly marks on such fair flesh. It made even Dathae's heart ache for the young man.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Ryo spoke first, a distant murmur, numb and devoid of emotion: "I'm… I was a virgin."

"You mean you've not lain with a woman before?"

Ryo shook his head. "I've never known an act of pure love. I fear I never will."

"Don't be silly, Ryo," Sage said lightly, attempting to cheer his Roman friend a little. "Of course you will; love always finds a way. Love is the meaning of life where I come from."

"Then explain to me, O Mighty Dathae of Athens-" Ryo sneered, turning to glare at the blond. "-why this so-called "meaning of life" has delivered me into the arms of a lustful, iniquitous demon?"

Sage was shocked, eyes wide, at the calm fury he saw. He gulped. "The gods work in mysterious ways, my friend."

"The gods," Ryo scoffed. "Maybe _your_ gods. _My_ gods abandoned me the moment my city was overthrown by Greeks."

"My gods and your gods are the same," Dathae said evenly. "The only difference is the names."

Ryo bowed his head and covered his eyes with a dripping hand. "Then I hate your gods, too. Last night, I…" He swallowed the remnants of his dignity. "Last night I became aroused when Morinum violated me and… I don't. I don't know why…"

"The body doesn't know any better," Sage explained. "Intercourse is intercourse to it. Doesn't matter if it's rough or gentle. At least be comforted by the thought that he cannot rape your mind."

"Oh, he'll find a way," Ryo snapped pessimistically. "He finds ways to ravage any and every part of me. I hate him more than any creature on this earth, more than hell and liars and thieves and murderers and Greeks…"

"Well, thank you for putting me and my kin at the bottom of that list," Dathae said severely, and the young Roman looked up to see if he would be ready to spring into the bath and drown him out of his misery. But the blond was smiling kindly to show that he was making a joke. "We could have been at the top."

Ryo's mouth twitched like it wanted to smile, and Dathae crawled to his feet with a grunt, motioning for Ryo to get out. "Well, come along now, you don't want to spend all day sitting in water and brooding about last night, do you?"

The black haired young man stared at the water. "No…"

"Then come with me. We'll find things to take your mind off if it. It's the only way we concubines can keep our sanity around here."

* * *

And this was how Ryo Sanadus began his new life and managed to survive in Rowenia, a city of unparalleled beauty with an ugly, unseen core. Like a rare and fragrant flower that poisons with its scent, this was the essence that embodied the beautiful city of his enemies. There were many things in Rowenia that shared this nature, and Morinum was one of them.

The Spartan general, though harsh and cruel, was not an unattractive man. Rather, he was quite handsome, and some would even go so far as to say that he was beautiful. However, this aesthetic trait was overlooked by his terrible mood, his severe attitude and his lack of any sort of connection with human emotion. Sage himself once said to Ryo, "Morinum lost his humanity years ago. He has always been like this, an empty shell that lives for nothing but others' suffering and fleshly pleasures."

This fact was quite true, and Morinum indulged these illicit pleasures through Ryo frequently, this being the only delight that he allowed himself to partake, and he often injured the young Trojan in minor ways upon doing this. Of course, it was nothing compared to the mental and emotional damage that Ryo received from this constant abuse. Morinum was too hellish a creature for Ryo to see past the shroud of hatred that cloaked him, too horrible for Ryo to recognise the general's attractiveness. Alas, how beautiful can a face be when it is always frowning? Ryo was blind and numb with Morinum in his presence, deaf to all words but commands, mute to all speech but "Yes, Master".

Each time he was forced into intercourse by the general, Ryo closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself elsewhere. This was a hard feat to manage, for Morinum particularly liked to watch Ryo's soul be torn to pieces through the Trojan's deep blue eyes. It made the act all the more unbearable. And when he was forced to look into the brunette's own sea green eyes, it was like being raped two times at once. It was unnerving to see those drab, void, dead eyes that lived for nothing and no one other than death and misery. Ryo could have almost begun to pity the general if he did not hate him with every shred of his soul.

Thankfully at least, these sessions of abuse did not last long. Afterwards, Ryo would retreat to the baths where he would wash the traces of Morinum from his flesh, massage his bruises and assure himself that things could really be worse. He didn't know _how_, but the thought was vaguely comforting. Sometimes he would even be fortunate enough to have Morinum away on some military duties for several days. Of course, the general would come back and make up for all that time, so Ryo wasn't sure which was worse: to be taken mildly and frequently or roughly and prolonged.

Time passed, and the young Trojan pined to be home. He had never been allowed beyond the palace walls, and even an excursion outside would be of some comfort to him. Soon, the guards no longer bothered to follow Ryo around, letting him come and go as he pleased. No longer did Ryo entertain thoughts of suicide, not while escaping and living to see Khristos and his Trojan brethren still haunted his dreams. So he bided his time and kept his mind off of his cruel master by exploring every available wing of the palace, planning escape routes and scenarios in his mind, mapping out and memorising every hall and corridor, every fountain and statue in the gardens so that soon he could navigate about the palace and its grounds with his eyes closed. He was also allotted a small amount of parchment so that he could write, and therefore began a small journal of his days in Rowenia. He didn't have to worry about any of his Greek enemies reading it, for it was written completely in Latin. Yet another petty comfort that in the end still added up to nothing.

Sage was constantly there to offer sound advice and bring a sense of something like happiness to Ryo's now jaded personality. The Athenian was a kind and cheery character but Ryo could never be truly happy here, not with a malignant black cloud like Morinum lurking a little ways off like a perpetual shadow of doom, a hovering ghost of malice and cruelty that haunted the young Roman's life and made it a living hell. Ryo had hoped with time that the general's amusement with him would decline and he would be freed or enslaved, anything to relinquish him from the Spartan's ownership. Alas, Morinum seemed to never tire of his nubile young slave, relishing Ryo's body anew each time they had sex, enjoying it as much as the first time he had consummated defeat of him. Ryo didn't know how the general retained an interest in him; but Morinum was evil, and the evil never tired of doing their wicked deeds. That was the way Ryo saw it.

Aside from seeking to find a way to freedom, Ryo spent time in good company with Dathae, playing games that he would teach to Ryo. He became particularly fond of mancala, and often beat the blond every time they played. Sage also secretly taught Ryo to read Greek so that if or when he escaped, he could find his way safely back home. Sage, who internally believed that Ryo could very well spend the rest of his life as a slave, offered this only out of pity and entertainment of Ryo's hopes. But he never said any of these thoughts aloud.

Often with the Athenian and royal lover in his presence, Ryo was allowed to venture to places he would otherwise be unallowed to go. And Sage knew all of the palace staff and guards, and thus was able to persuade his way through obstacles with his mesmerising charm and coy flirtations that swayed even the burliest, toughest and meanest of palace sentries. Not that there was much to see--they were still slaves, and susceptible to be ordered around by higher lords and ladies of the palace. Still, anyone below them was a person to be pitied, for Sage led the duo to great acts of mischief. Ryo was always too timid to really be a part of the fun, fearing Morinum would find out and rebuke him for attempting to actually enjoy himself. Ryo considered it law that within the palace he was forbidden to feel the slightest shred of happiness.

Still, he laughed at Dathae's puns and smiled when the Athenian played the flute for him, something the blond had been taught as a boy growing up in his home city. But they were shallow smiles and laughs, no unbound, unrestrained joy behind them at all. But the music was nice, at least. Lovely, lilting Greek melodies. Sometimes, when just Ryo and Sage were alone in the gardens, sitting beneath the shade of the trees with the birds singing in the warm breeze and the soft babbling of the fountains nearby, Ryo could almost forget that he was really a slave, a captive, an enemy in this pleasant, god-kissed land of perpetual sunshine. He could almost forget that his life had been ruined and his soul tarnished by a man without a heart. Almost. He could almost forget. But alas, some things cannot be forgotten, no matter how much the heart tries.

* * *

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years and soon Ryo had seen five summers under the enslavement of his enemies. Each day seemed like an eternity, but from what Ryo had been told, that is the way time passes when one is in hell. Dathae remained his only friend and acquaintance, his only source of brief and thin happiness.

During this time, Ryo had grown. Twenty-five now and a frequenter of the small, open-air gymnasium in the palace, he had become a sturdy, strong young man. His frame was naturally small and wiry, but Sage's company had lent him an assured confidence around the unpleasant palace guards, whom dared not to scrap with the fiery-eyed Trojan.

Often Ryo was wont to bask in the sun endlessly, enjoying its warmth and comfort and becoming quite tanned in the process. The first time the pale-skinned Athenian attempted to sunbathe with his friend he was promptly burnt to a red crisp and could not "perform his duties" with the king for nearly two weeks. Rowenium advised him to not partake of the sun so readily and since that day, Sage was forced to carry around a canvas parasol like a lady. Ryo teased him about it from time to time. The two had been inseparable since they had first met, two peas in a pod.

In five year's time, Ryo's mane of midnight black had grown quite long, now flowing down his back like cascading silk. Every day spent in his terrible prison seemed to make him grow stronger and more beautiful. On more than one occasion had Ryo noticed looks of lustful admiration from the ladies of the palace, and even from a few of the lords as well. That was when Morinum stepped in. The Spartan general was a wickedly jealous man, coveting Ryo like a prized jewel. He would not allow the Trojan's ebony locks to be cut since Morinum considered it Ryo's best asset, the very essence of his beauty. He became aware of the stares his slave was beginning to get and finally ordered Ryo to wear his hair up, only letting it down to bathe or when he was pleasing his master.

Sometime after this "rule" of Ryo was put into effect, the Trojan and Athenian were lounging about the garden when Sage had noted and said in a somewhat awed voice, "You know, I have never seen Morinum so envious and protective of anything or anyone before in my life." He arched a golden brow and grinned coyly. "Perhaps he is slowly changing. Perhaps you are restoring his humanity, Ryo. In time, you may find yourself experiencing that single act of true love."

"Don't be idiotic, Dathae," Ryo snapped vilely. "Demons do not change--they only deceive and trick. They remain devils through it all."

"Maybe you're being too harsh and unforgiving with our general," Sage said.

"How can I be forgiving to someone who has stolen my pride and innocence?"

"It is human tendency to forgive."

"Then perhaps _I_ have lost my humanity as well."

There was a brief silence between the two friends, and Sage gazed up at the clear blue sky. "I was talking to his Majesty and we happened upon the subject of Morinum. You really ought to pity him, Ryo. He's a sad creature, practically taken from his family and thrown into the military. I heard his father was a common soldier who died, but it could be a lie. He might be a bastard. He has a mother and sister, you know."

Ryo, seated on the ground, turned to stare up at the blond from his position on a marble bench. "You fool me."

"I do not. In fact, he lost his own mother not too long ago. Bad health, it seems. She had a weak heart. His sister still lives in Sparta, by herself. I don't think she's married yet."

Images of Ryo's own mother came to his mind. Her lovely, smiling face, her warm embrace and caring voice… losing her made Ryo want to die along with her. Was that how Morinum felt when his mother died? Ryo swallowed his pity with a frown. No. Morinum's mother died, she wasn't brutally slaughtered. How could that compare? Morinum didn't know what sadness was. He was a monster, a hell-beast. He had no feelings for anyone.

Sage went on, blithely watching the sky. "Yes, he is a truly pathetic man. Military training all but killed him. I suppose that's what killed his humanity, making him the way he is. Maybe that's why he treats you so poorly; he doesn't know how to treat anything he cares about. See Ryo, maybe he _does_ love you but just doesn't know how to show it."

Ryo didn't turn his head. He said in a very low tone that frightened Dathae terribly: "Never mention 'love' and 'Morinum' in the same sentence again, Sage."

The blond pressed his lips together, forming a thin, worried line. "Alright. If it would please you."

Silence fell, and after a while, the tall Athenian stood to his feet and shifted his parasol to his other hand. "There was also one more thing I learned about him," he said slowly. "I don't know how much of a difference it will make, but I thought you'd like to know." Sage paused and drew in a breath. "His name is Cye. Cye Morinum."

Ryo was silently stunned, feeling as if he had just been punched in the ribs. His stomach churned uneasily and he felt himself slowly go numb. _He had a real name._ It was almost unconceivable that this inhuman general should carry a human name. And it sounded so mild, so gentle, so kind, like the name of a loving child… all of the things that Morinum was not. Ryo briefly reflected. _But I never knew Morinum before he was a soldier… maybe he really _was _a… _

And the thought came to him: perhaps there were two people inside of the Spartan, Cye, the young boy who was killed by Spartan life, and then there was Morinum, the cruel general who rose from the child's corpse to kill and destroy. Cye Morinum. Two contradicting names for one person.

Ryo looked up suddenly to ask Sage a question but his friend had departed, leaving him alone in the garden with his thoughts.

* * *

_Rome_

Mia stood in the doorway of her home and watched with sad eyes as her husband packed his things into a small satchel. Nothing could be said to try and convince him not to go; she had been trying for weeks to put the idea out of his head, but Khristos was a stubborn man. His journey would be long and dangerous, over seas and foreign land, into enemy territory, all to look for a man who might have died years ago. It worried Mia's heart and made it ache at the thought that she might never see her husband again, that their toddling daughter Ileana might grow up to never know the brave warrior father she had.

"Khristos," Mia begged softly. "Please reconsider this one last time."

The strong soldier continued to gather his things with a face of stone. "I must go. You know it is useless to talk me out of it."

"I know," she murmured. "But for Ileana's sake. Think of our daughter, Khris. She should have a father in her childhood."

"I shall not die, Mia. Where is your faith in me?" he demanded.

Tears came to the woman's eyes. "There is faith and then there is rationality. I've seen too many soldiers leave their families and never return. Forgive my practicality, Faunus. Go, pursue Ryo's ghost to the ends of the earth while your family waits and wonders. What shall I tell Ileana when she asks what happened to her father? That he is off in search of an absolution for a man who died long ago-"

Khristos took his wife by the arms and gazed into her eyes. "He is not dead, Mia. I have had dreams. I see him. He is alive and well, and I must go find him. He must reclaim his title as general of our army, take revenge for Troy and lead us to glory!"

"Khristos! It's been thirteen years since our city fell!" Mia cried. "How can vengeance still encompass your thoughts? Is that all that you think about? Cannot we get _on_ with our lives? Cannot we leave the ashes of Troy and begin our lives again? Sanadus has died, and you cannot accept the fact! You must let go sometime, Khristos. You have a family now, and yet you allow a dream you _presume_ to be a sign, deliver you into the land of our enemies! You are chasing a memory, a shadow, a ghost. Go, if it means that much to you. Go, if you cannot release these thoughts of hatred and vengeance. But do not count on my being here when you return."

Mia pulled away from her husband and turned her eyes away. Khristos' face softened a little and he said, "More of our soldiers die every day, Mia. Our enemies are not allowing us to return to our lives. They still dream of vengeance, just like us. We need Sanadus."

"Wonderful general _he_ was," Mia snapped. "Getting himself captured. How many lives are you willing to sacrifice to find him, Khristos, aside from your own?"

Faunus didn't answer. He turned back and began to gather up his final belongings he would be taking with him. "When I return with Sanadus, we shall destroy the Greeks. _Then_ we shall be able to live out the rest of our lives. If they will not give us rest then we shall make it ourselves."

"And what if he is _not_ alive, Khristos? What will happen then?"

"He'll be alive," the young man replied in a reverent whisper. "I just know he is."

* * *

_Rowenia, evening _

Dathae was seated comfortably in his small but lavishly decorated chambers, a cool summer breeze blowing through the large, open windows and making the thin silk curtains dance. A small lamp was lit and sitting upon the floor beside the blond Athenian, seated upon a cushion, as he cast marked stones over a piece of canvas covered with symbols and charts. He would gather them up, toss them, stare at the outcome, and then repeat the process.

Ryo entered the room softly and watched his friend. Sage only seemed to do this when he was feeling particularly moody or worried, and the young man with raven hair assumed it to be caused from the incident in the garden earlier that day. Dathae was slightly arrogant and proud, and he had a tendency to hold grudges when chastised.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted today in the garden," the Roman said apologetically. "I suppose I was feeling a little cynical today."

"When are you not?" Sage replied with a half-smile, turning to beckon Ryo to sit beside him. "Don't fret over a trifle. Come sit with me."

The young man took a seat next to his Greek friend, watching as he cast his stones. Often he had seen Sage do this, but he never really asked what it was for. Usually, since the blond was almost always in some type of mood when he did this, Ryo never inquired for fear of making him cross. However, now he finally had the chance.

"What are you doing?"

"Throwing pebbles on a mat," Sage jested and Ryo chuckled. "No, seriously. I am attempting to predict the future."

"It can be done?"

"Some people would like to believe it can, yes."

"Who's future are you predicting?" Ryo asked, looking at the mat.

"Nobody's. Just the future."

"The future of what?"

"Just the future."

"Well, that's rather silly, isn't it?" the Trojan scoffed lightly. "What good is predicting the future if you don't know what it's for?"

"You dimwit," Sage elbowed his good friend in the ribs and Ryo laughed. "Would you like me to read your palm?"

Ryo looked down at his hand dully. "There's no text on my hand, Sage."

"Oh, but there is. If you look closely, you can see lines from where you fold your hand. It is believed that those lines are significant, and that by reading them they can tell your future."

"Hm." Ryo looked doubtful. "But I am Roman. Can you read Latin, Sage? My lines are not written in Greek."

Sage laughed lightly and took Ryo's hand in his own, running his slender fingers over the young man's palm and laying it open. The Athenian had such soft, warm hands, uncalloused hands that never knew hard toil and labour. They practically felt like living silk against Ryo's own rough, worn hands that had once held a sword and shield and were used to scaling sharp rocks. Sage's fingertips lightly traced the lines in Ryo's open hand.

"This is your heart line, right here… and it's telling me…"

Ryo grinned, giddy with excitement.

"You have a very strong heart, Ryo. Of course, I sensed that when we first met."

"Of course," he mocked, rolling his eyes.

"And this is your head line, or the line of your mind. And let me see the correlation between the head and heart…" The golden haired young man leaned close and studied, breathing warm breath onto Ryo's wrist. "Hmm. You are a man led by his heart."

"How can you tell?"

"It's the strongest, most defined of the lines. You tend to act on your emotions without thinking sometimes, and your heart is keenly aware of others' pain and suffering. You are selfless, courageous and brave. You have a very warm and loving personality. I see also a great sense of leadership and responsibility."

"I was a general… once," Ryo said, hoping that what he was hearing was right, making himself believe it.

"Your head line obviously indicates that you are and will always be an idiot-"

Ryo swatted Sage, who chuckled merrily. "No. But it is obvious that your heart has control of your body. You are capable of much love, Ryo. Very much."

"Pity I shall never use it," he said morosely.

Sage looked up briefly, a sad look flitting across his fair features, before gazing down at Ryo's palm again. "And let me see… this line right here by your thumb is your life line, and it…" He trailed off and went silent, looking very sombre.

"What is it?" the Trojan asked softly. "What does it say?"

Dathae looked up, pale lavender eyes appearing regretful. "Do you want an answer or do you want the truth?"

Ryo gulped. "I want what I need to hear."

The blond sighed quietly. "I see a life that will suffer much, is riddled with pain and torment." He trailed his finger along the base of Ryo's thumb. "Constant affliction, though your health does not appear to suffer. It is emotional and spiritual pain. And then…" Sage swallowed. "It ends abruptly."

"My suffering?"

"…your life, Ryo."

Silence fell. Sage, voice cracking slightly, forced himself to continue. "Your life is short… and in the end, you will perish suddenly."

"Will I… grow ill?"

Dathae shook his head. "You health is consistently strong throughout your whole life. No… it seems that you will be killed at an early age. I'm sorry-" The Athenian shook his head and let go of Ryo's hand. "Forgive me. I-I am probably reading it wrong..."

"How long have you been doing this?" Ryo murmured.

Sage looked meek. "My whole life."

Ryo nodded sullenly. "I see."

"But… but who believes these foolish things, anyway?" Sage scoffed.

"_You_, apparently," said the dark haired young man, gazing down at the mat and stones, then to the shelf of crystals, coins, and cards of parchment nearby.

The blond cleared his throat in an embarrassed way. "Pay no mind to me. It's just a hobby. Don't take anything I say seriously. After all, it is _your_ life, Ryo. _You_ shall decide how it's to be lived."

"I'm not upset about dying early," Ryo muttered. "I just want to love and be loved once in my life before I go. But here…" He gazed up at the ceiling, tears building in his eyes. "If I am so filled with love, why cannot I show it? Why must a heart overflowing with warmth and care be led to death before its time? It's…" He lowered his head. "It's not fair."

He felt a gentle hand upon his own, and he looked up to see Sage gazing at him sadly. "Ryo… I…" He licked his lips nervously, and Ryo sensed his words before he even heard them. "I can make love to you if you want."

Ryo drew in a breath and held it, mind racing. He had wanted to know love, but not this kind, not with another man, even if it was done in kindness and courtesy, it still wasn't love to Ryo. But… what if this was as close as he were allowed to get? Here was his chance. And what if it never got better than this?

"Yes," Ryo whispered, not thinking, not caring.

"…Alright," Sage said. "But you shall have to be quiet. We don't want anyone to find out, especially the king or Morinum."

Ryo nodded and stood to his feet with Sage, and climbed onto the soft, silk covers of the bed as the blond leaned over and extinguished the lamp. Darkness crept into the room and Ryo's eyes slowly adjusted, revealing a world of blue and black shadows. He saw the Athenian's slender silhouette as he sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over Ryo, brushing back the dark bangs from his forehead.

"I've never made love to a man before," came the barely audible words from above. "I've always been made love _to_."

Ryo didn't answer. His heart was pounding so fiercely that he did not think he could answer without a trembling, unintelligible voice. Instead, he reached up and gently ran his fingers through Sage's divine, golden locks, mentally bidding Dathae to touch him.

And slowly, Sage eased himself down on top of Ryo's body, and the young Roman wrapped his arms over the blond's shoulders, bending his knees and allowing Sage's body to lie in between his legs. Ryo closed his eyes as he felt his soon-to-be lover kiss the corner of his mouth delicately, wet tongue running along the length of Ryo's lips. So gentle… so tender…

Soon, Ryo became aware of Sage's hard length prodding against his thighs and he willingly spread his legs, raised his hips up to meet the blond. They fumbled with their clothes, both inexperienced one way or another. But shortly they worked their way around the clothes, and Dathae slowly pried his way into Ryo's body with grace and ease born of someone who truly cared for him. Tears squeezed from Ryo's tightly shut eyes and he opened his mouth, pushed his hips forward, onto the heated erection of his lover. Is this what love felt like? How would he know?

And when Sage kissed Ryo's lips, moist tongue slipping into his mouth and caressing Ryo's own, that's when he knew. He loved Dathae, just in this way, just for now. Tomorrow would be different, but _now_…

"We're making love," Ryo gasped softly, feeling a single bead of sweat trickle down his neck, saying it more for his own belief, trying to convince himself that this was real. He moved under his lover, who began a rhythm of sliding in and out of Ryo, rocking gently up and down.

"Yes," Sage murmured in his ear. "We're making love."

Ryo wrapped himself, arms, legs, his soul around his lover and wept out loud.

_Love…_ he didn't want it to end. Would this really be the last time he felt it before he died? If so, he wanted to die _now_, in the arms of someone who loved him. He was determined he would not perish any other way. Love was too precious a thing to live without.

_ I want to die,_ Ryo thought as he felt his soul take flight. _In the arms of someone who loves me._

* * *

Just outside the room, leaning his back against the wall and listening in silence to the two young slaves making love to each other stood General Morinum. He had come to ask the annoying slut of the king if he knew where his slave might be, and he found him assuredly, but never in the way Morinum expected to find him. His rage was so mighty that it was soundless and invisible, a deadly fury that could kill with a single stroke. _And it _will_ kill,_ the general thought. He would have his revenge for this. Maybe not _now_, maybe not _tomorrow_, but he _will_ have his vengeance. Soon, all would see his plan, every man, woman and child of Rowenia. Soon, they would all be aware. Soon…

And with that, the Spartan general walked slowly away, his footsteps never making a sound on the marble floor.


	7. Chapter VII Strategies

**Chapter VII: Strategies**

Sapphire blue eyes fluttered open, sleep-glazed and tired. Ryo sat up and ran a hand through his long, raven hair and shook his head, the ends swishing lightly against the small of his back. Sunlight was filtering in through a slit in the curtains, falling across the bed in a glowing sliver that warmed the sheets. There was movement beside him as Sage rolled over onto his back and exhaled sleepily. A few seconds later he shot bolt upright and grabbed Ryo's shoulders.

"What are you still doing here!?" he whispered fiercely. "What time is it? You're going to get caught and then we'll both be in trouble!"

Ryo was out of bed, twisting his hair into a ponytail, pinning it back up into place and fumbling to get his tunic on, still half awake. "Sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep."

Dathae was sitting on the edge of the bed and putting his sandals on hastily. "How could you let me sleep this late! I'm supposed to meet with his Majesty this morning!"

"You didn't tell me that!"

"Well, you know now."

Ryo made for the door but Sage sprang out of bed and grabbed him by the arm. "Don't go that way! There's guards out there and if they see you leaving my room they'll tell the king, or worse yet, Morinum!"

"What should I do?" Ryo hissed desperately.

Sage nodded his head toward the curtains. "My window faces the north side of the gardens. You can get back by going toward the large fountain and taking a right. Go swiftly, but watch out for the open halls. The guards can see you through those."

Ryo nodded and dashed to the window, crawling out slowly and stopping only to whisper, "Thank you, Sage."

The blond sighed, smiled a little and nodded once. "Be careful."

"I will."

And with that, Ryo was gone, leaving the Athenian standing alone in his room and staring at the curtains waving in the wake of his new lover's departure.

* * *

It wasn't hard for Ryo to find his window and crawl in unnoticed, however, he was trembling in anxiety and apprehension. He had to get to the bathhouse quickly and wash all traces and scents of Dathae from his body before Morinum called for him. The general was only human but Ryo firmly believed he had been endowed with all the powers of evil and the fury of the underworld-- he would be able to smell Sage on Ryo's skin like any keen-scented animal. Ryo simply _had_ to get himself cleaned off.

He collected his wits, grabbed a clean beige chiton and crept to his bedroom doors, easing one open tensely. Aware that the morning guard's suspicions might be aroused if he continued to creep around, Ryo boldly walked out, shut the door behind him and strode nervously down the hall, forcing himself to take slow strides. The guard just outside his bedroom door frowned in puzzlement; he didn't remember the slave ever entering his quarters last night…

As soon as he was out of sight by the guards, Ryo broke into a run, sandals slapping loudly on the marble floor and his heart pounding even louder. As he approached the baths he was already letting his hair down, planning on jumping straight in if it meant lessening the chances of being caught. But just as he rounded a pillar he came face to face with the ominous figure of General Morinum, the hateful beast himself who had been lying in wait for his prey.

Fear was not a word that could begin to describe what Ryo felt grip his heart right then; he froze, mortified, and his lips parted slightly. "I…m-master…" he barely managed to whisper, his vocal cords too tight to work. He couldn't swallow, as his mouth was totally dry; his heart that had ceased to beat for a few moments suddenly sprang back to life in a full gallop, urging every bone and muscle in his body to either run or die. The chiton Ryo was holding slipped out of his numb hands and fell in a soft crumple to the floor.

Morinum didn't blink; he stared hard at his slave, narrowing his green eyes and setting his jaw tightly. Ryo was gazing at him fearfully, riveted to the spot. The auburn haired Spartan reached out and slapped him, not hard, but like any usual strike to the face that Ryo received. It didn't even hurt.

"Watch where you step, you blithering dullard!" Morinum snapped. "Had we collided, I would be thrashing you for your clumsiness… and cease staring like a dumbfounded child, Sanadus. It mars your idiotic beauty."

Ryo bowed his head and stammered in a meek tone, "F-forgive me, mas-master."

The general took a step closer, closing the space between them. "Why are you trembling, slave?" came the menacingly calm voice.

"D-don't I always when in your pr-presence? Master," he added, feeling as if he were about to be sick right then and there. His stomach churned and turned over and over like a rough sea.

"Where were you last night?" Morinum said in a deadly tone.

The dark haired young man gulped down his nausea at the inquiry and murmured, "I-I was… I fell asleep in the gardens and-"

A hand seized Ryo's hair and jerked him forward, turning his face up to meet Morinum's furious red expression with eyes like living fire. "DON'T LIE TO MY FACE, YOU FILTHY WRETCH!" he roared. Tears were streaming down Ryo's cheeks like a waterfall and he shut them, being deafened by Morinum's voice. "I KNOW WHERE YOU WERE LAST NIGHT, HOW DARE YOU TO EVEN _THINK_ YOU COULD HIDE IT FROM ME!"

"It's not true! I drank too much wine and then I-" the Trojan started to wheedle, only to be struck very hard by the back of the general's hand. Ryo's senses blacked out momentarily and he felt something hot and wet running from his nose. Blood; it smelled of hammered steel.

"Don't tell me _more_ lies, you slut," Morinum hissed, pulling Ryo to his chest suddenly and holding him in his arms. The Roman's eyes grew large, puzzled by this tight embrace. He felt a heart beat against his own… the monster had a heart? Of course. All monsters do. Ryo had felt it press against his back many of his long-suffered nights, but he was suddenly calmer, relaxed this time. Perhaps his punishment was over now. Was that all? Ryo had thought he would be killed or at least beaten within an inch of his life. Oh no… what if Morinum went after-

Ryo felt the hem of his chiton lift and expose his rear, and a rude hand slipped into the crevice of his cheeks while a knee forced apart his legs. He gasped in shock and squealed when he felt two of the brunette's fingers pry into his cavity. Ryo struggled to get away but Morinum clutched him all the tighter, crushing his slave close to him in a brutal embrace.

Ryo winced as he felt the fingers stretch and knead him, biting his own fist as he became aware of a warm liquid dribbling down his inner thighs.

"Hmph," Morinum grunted angrily. "Fell asleep in the garden, eh? Well, here's what that Athenian harlot poured into you last night."

Ryo sobbed out loud and begged, "I'm sorry. Pl-please don't hurt him-"

The arm holding Ryo close slid up and grabbed the ends of midnight black hair, pulling them painfully. The young man groaned in pain while the fingers enjoyed playing with his pre-lubricated orifice. Thick rivulets of Dathae's essence ran down Morinum's knuckles; the cruel young man uttered, "I would worry more about what will happen to _you_, Sanadus, if I were a pathetic Trojan bitch like you."

Ryo's tears burned with silent anger. He was tired of being violated and insulted and treated like a common prostitute. He was a general. He was a man. He didn't deserve this kind of treatment. All he wanted was to be loved, and Sage had given him that… why was he being punished for that? Because he knew that his owner was an envious man, cruel and without a shred of decency. Morinum was aware that Dathae was Ryo's only friend; maybe Ryo even loved him and willingly sought pleasure in Dathae's arms. And that was something Morinum's jealousy simply could not tolerate.

"You lied to me, Sanadus," the general continued in a mockingly hurt but collected tone. Ryo squirmed helplessly. "I thought I could trust at least my own _slave_ to remain faithful to me… you really hurt my feelings." The Spartan general sneered, making his words cut like a razor in their sharp sarcasm. His fingers worked their way deeper into Ryo's body, shoving forcefully inside of the heat and slickness.

Ryo squeezed his eyelids open, took a deep heave of breath and growled between clenched teeth, "What _feelings_, you _heartless bastard_!?"

Morinum pulled his lips taut and thrust his hand upward, burying it into Ryo like a spear into a fish. The young man shrieked at the top of his lungs, a long, dying howl of immense pain and suffering that was like music to Morinum's ears. He felt the Roman's muscle clench tightly around his wrist, his hand enveloped in the deep heat of Ryo's body.

Ryo wailed again in agony as Morinum pushed deeper and withdrew again; Ryo clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white and his fingernails drew crescent-shaped punctures into his palms. Blood trickled down the smooth, tender flesh of his wrists and forearms, tendons straining and muscles flexing in agony under a canvas of warm skin; hot, ruby red blood, dark and deep like so much of Ryo, flowed. Morinum grabbed the young man's arms and pulled them to his face, leaned down and dragged his moist tongue across the river of blood, following it up to its source, drinking it like wine.

When the general pulled away, Ryo saw the wet glisten of his own crimson life painted on Morinum's lips. The contrast to the pale skin of his face, his slightly rosy cheeks, his glimmering, malicious green eyes and the shadows cast by the hair falling over his forehead made him a both beautiful and terrifying sight. But to Ryo… he saw only a vampire of blood and lust and souls.

He fought hard to wriggle free from Morinum's hold; the Spartan drew his hand out of Ryo's body and wiped the mix of blood and semen on the skirt of Ryo's chiton, Ryo whom struggled to keep his sobs locked in his throat. Still, Morinum held him close.

"I've lost faith in you, Sanadus," the general said darkly. "You betrayed me, and I can no longer trust you." He sighed heavily and gripped the sides of Ryo's body with a bruising touch. "And that's the one thing I hate the most; faithlessness and deception."

The dark haired young man would have begged to his master to stop hurting him, that is, if he knew Morinum cared in the vaguest sense about him. Which he didn't, and Ryo was aware that.

Morinum relished the sheer terror he saw screaming silently in Ryo's eyes. The fear, the adrenaline, the panting breath, the pounding heart, the nervous, cold sweat. This terror and agony, this was the sole thing he truly loved, and as long as his slave feared him, Morinum would continue to use him. The general smiled charmingly and stroked Ryo's hot cheek with the back of his hand. The Trojan shook and trembled so fiercely Morinum could practically hear his teeth chattering.

"You're aware of what I am capable of doing to you, right, Sanadus?"

Somehow, despite his shaking, Ryo managed to nod his head.

"Good." The general paused momentarily to allow his words to sink in. "You will reside in my quarters from here on. When you are not locked inside, a guard will escort you wherever you go. And unless I can help it, you will never see your little whore-friend again." And he shoved Ryo away from him disgustedly, pausing in his departure to say, "Bathe yourself well. You reek of a harlot's scent."

And he melted away as suddenly as he had appeared. Ryo stood weakly for a few moments in a kind of numb shock. He walked over shakily and sat at the pool's edge, removed his chiton before slipping quietly into the water. There were guards not too far away who had overheard the whole ordeal, maybe even seen it, gods forbidding. Ryo's cheeks burned at the thought and he ducked his head under the water to remedy them. There, he opened his mouth and sobbed long and loud a rush of bubbles, hiding his anger, sorrow, anguish, torment and misery under the sheltering surface of the cool embrace of crystal clear liquid.

* * *

Several days passed since Morinum's new rule, the one that made Ryo even more of a prisoner than he was before, had gone into effect; Ryo wondered if Sage had been told that he was dead or had been sold or taken away from the palace. There was no way he would know, not with an intimidating chaperone following him around and locking him in Morinum's chambers at night.

The general's bedroom surprised Ryo when he was first tossed in--the furniture was the same as his own. Ryo got the notion that either Morinum was a very humble man or a glutton for misery. He supposed the latter. The room was mostly bare, the only clutter being Greek maps marked with warring regions or scrolls of complicated text that Ryo could barely decipher. The bed was a little bigger than his own… the Trojan became faint when he imagined what was to be performed on its surface on an almost certain nightly basis, especially now that Morinum could partake of his body any time he felt necessary.

All Ryo could do or was allowed to do most of the day was sit in the room and await the general's presence, something that was horrible to think about for hours on end. By the time the general usually showed up, Ryo was on the brink of having an anxiety attack. Morinum was almost always in a foul temper from the lack of competence from the young king and his subordinates, or dealing with equally moronic recruits and the like.

It was even worse than before; at least before all this, Ryo could run back to his room after the Spartan had finished taking out his lust on him. But now he had nowhere to run. He was forced to lie in bed next to Morinum and try to get to sleep, an impossibility. It was like sleeping next to a vicious, unchained beast that could at any moment roll over and begin to molest Ryo any time it felt like it. Since these nights in Morinum's bed were sleepless, Ryo took to sleeping during the day, upsetting his biological cycle and mental health. He began to look like a dead man when he ventured out -escorted, only- from the general's room.

Morinum had been engaged in matters of war and business as of lately, and Ryo relished the few but merciful nights when the general went to bed and ignored him entirely, too absorbed in his own agenda to pay any attention to the raven haired young man that lay next to him obediently. Morinum would sometimes be gone for several days, away on short journeys with his subordinates to meet with obscure military officials of neighbouring kingdoms. Ryo didn't know much about Morinum's affairs, and planned to keep it that way. With Dathae out of his life, he no longer smiled, no longer laughed, no longer spoke. He was horribly and totally alone. His only friend and only source of miniscule happiness was taken away from him, and now he really had nothing to live for. So he would sit for hours in Morinum's desolate room, the thin curtains drawn in the dark room, trying to figure out in his barely sane mind, what horrible act he had committed that deserved this miserable existence.

* * *

While General Morinum was away from the palace for the fourth day straight, Ryo was picking at his midday meal when a lady sat down across from him at the marble table. The guard that watched Ryo would have made her move to another seat had he been present at the time--he was currently flirting with one of the ladies of the court at the other end of the dining hall, leaving Ryo unwatched for a moment.

The seated woman had her head and face covered partially with a loose sash. She lifted it and Dathae's somber visage appeared. Ryo nearly choked on his bread and bit his tongue to keep from screaming in joy. Never had the blond haired Athenian been such a welcome sight to his sore eyes.

"Sage!" he exclaimed in a whisper.

The young man put a finger to his lips and looked around carefully. "Don't say my name. Keep your voice down."

"Thank the gods!" the Trojan went on in a hushed voice, his misery flowing into his eyes in the form of hot tears. "You've got to tell the king, make Morinum stop this."

"What has he been doing to you, Ryo? You look awful."

"He keeps me locked in his quarters. I can only leave in a guard's presence. Oh, Sage-" Ryo broke down, face crumpling. "-I don't know what I'm going to do now. I think I'll die if I have to lie with Morinum one more night."

"You've got to be strong," the blond insisted. "Ryo, you are not allowed to die in the walls of this palace. You cannot. You must take heart and endure this."

Ryo shook his head. "I can't! Morinum is a living incarnation of Hell itself! I hate him more than-"

"Have you ever tried _loving_ him, Ryo? It may be easier than hating him."

The Roman was struck silent at the suggestion before his eyes flashed fire. "I've told you not to mention his name and that word in the same sentence!"

"Fie on the sentence. If you want to live, you must at least talk to him, Ryo," Sage said. "When I was brought to Rowenia as a teenager and tied to the king's bed, do you think I was any different from you? The king and I were as you and Morinum were; I hated him and he treated me horribly. Then I forced myself to talk with him, small talk. It opened up a connection between us and soon we had actually become friends. As time passed we grew to love each other-"

"_I don't _want_ to love Morinum_!" Ryo screamed under his breath, horrified by the thought. "I don't want his friendship and I certainly don't want his love! He is an abomination to the very words!"

The Athenian shrugged. "Fine. Suit yourself. Then you shall die shortly if you do not wish to take my advice. I don't think the general killed a shred of your pride, because it seems you are too proud to try to make peace with him."

"He is my enemy!"

"And so am I, Ryo. However, if you want to live to see Rome, your honour or your friends again, you will follow my instructions or let a few pieces of stone decide your fate and sentence you to death." Sage looked around quickly and stood to his feet, drawing his sash back over his head. "The guard is returning. I must go. Heed my advice, Ryo. You are not to die before me, do you understand?"

Ryo nodded solemnly.

"Good. Take care of yourself." And Sage turned and walked away with the grace of the most proper noblewoman, going unnoticed by the guard. Ryo clenched his fists and swallowed. Talk to Morinum… how could he? This was the man who for five years had been keeping him enslaved for the most humiliating of all purposes, treating him terribly, depriving him of happiness and probably doing the best job he could to make Ryo's life a miserable, unbearable Hell. And so far he was succeeding.

But looking on the bright side of things, at least his life could not get any worse than it already was. He had nothing to risk except the life that he would gladly give in exchange for peace on the other side, be it heaven or the underworld, anything better than this wretched place of woe and war that the earth had become. If Ryo lost that, it would be no important matter. He had grown sick of the world. It was a cruel place filled with so much agony and hate that if he never saw it again it would be too soon.

_ I'll do it,_ Ryo thought as he stared at Dathae's empty seat. _I'll talk to Morinum as soon as he returns. And perhaps he will grow tired of my prattling and silence me forever. That would be reason enough to try and escape from this palace of iniquity. _

* * *

As the evening light slowly began to settle into the sky, Dathae returned to his room, tired of wandering about the palace gardens aimlessly or haunting the main corridor looking for newcomers or guests in the palace. There were none, the same as yesterday and the day before and the day before that.

He sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair, brushing aside the locks that seemed to fall naturally over one eye, and sighing softly. He knew that Ryo was dying, not from a disease of the body, but a disease of the spirit. Ryo was a free soul, Sage knew that by studying the stars under which his Trojan friend was born. A man like Ryo was meant to be treated well, respected, admired, live kindly among friends. He had much love to give and he should receive it in turn. Yet the Athenian knew that Morinum might never be capable of ever giving Ryo love, especially when Ryo himself did not want it. This was all a horrible, horrible mess. It should have never been. The stars had crossed themselves the day the Roman met General Morinum on the battlefield. Sage wondered what possessed the general to spare Ryo's life in the first place. If he had wanted to kill his opponent in the worst way imaginable, he certainly was succeeding in it.

Dathae's heart grew sore from thinking of his friend, shut out from everyone who could possibly love him and faced with a brutal beast of a man as his master. He was certain Morinum found out about his and Ryo's affair, else why would he keep Ryo locked away now, away from _him_? The thought filled Sage with dread, and he felt in his heart that one day Morinum would exact his revenge on Dathae for ever laying a finger on his slave.

The Athenian reached over and took his carved wooden flute from the small table beside his bed and put it to his lips, beginning to play a soft, sorrowful song, allowing his thoughts to be carried through his breath and turned into the mournful tune which drifted gently through the open window of his room.

He played for a while, thinking of Ryo and Morinum and Rome and Athens until the sun had disappeared on the horizon beyond the palace walls, a horizon that was the object of so much yearning, something that may never be touched by the hands of certain people that lived within this cleverly disguised prison…

Sage cut the note he was playing short, tossing his flute down onto the bed and standing to his feet slowly. He was completely and utterly depressed right now; he wanted nothing more than to go down into the wine cellar and drink himself unconscious. If the king called for him tonight, then His Majesty could just make love to his drunken, passed out body; nothing on the living earth was going to keep Dathae from tanking down a few dozen flasks tonight.

* * *

As the sky became dark and the stars slowly appeared, Ryo paced the floor of the general's room with anxiety, still trying to think of something simple to talk about. He knew that Morinum despised people who pried into his business and hated small talk even more. What was left to discourse once these options were ruled out? It's not like either of them had a life outside of their humanly duties. Ryo felt butterflies of nervousness dancing about inside of him, and he suddenly heard footsteps and voices outside of the room. He scrambled about frantically for a few minutes, trying to find something with which to look long occupied with but found nothing--he was standing in the middle of the floor when the door opened and the auburn haired general strode inside, carrying a small satchel filled with his provisions of travel.

Ryo froze. Morinum walked by without so much as glancing at him, as if he wasn't even there. Words froze in the Roman's throat as he watched the general deposit the satchel on the floor, sit down at the desk, pick up a short stalk of graphite and begin to write upon a piece of parchment. That was it. Ryo listened to the scritch-scratch of the rough paper and gulped. _Hello, how are you? My name is Ryo Sanadus and I've been here for the past five years in case you didn't notice… _

The dark haired young man sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Morinum's turned back, took a breath and murmured, "Welcome back, Master."

The general's pencil stopped and so did Ryo's heart; slowly, he turned around and stared at his slave with an arched brow. "_What_?"

Ryo felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck. "W-welcome back," he stammered. "You were gone for quite a while."

Morinum looked dubious and inquired, "Did you miss me?"

"No."

At first he looked surprised, then the general smiled. "Well… at least I know you're not lying."

"What if I were?"

"Then you're had too much to drink, knave." Morinum turned back around and began writing again. "Go to sleep and cease annoying me."

"Why don't you just wish me to die," Ryo snapped under his breath as he lay down on one side of the bed.

"What was that, Sanadus?" the brunette inquired sharply.

Panic seized Ryo. "I said, uh… what would you do if I died, Master?"

Morinum paused. "I would…" Silence. "I'd…" A long moment passed. "I'd stab you again to make certain you were dead." He chuckled at his own reply.

Ryo sat upright. "You would kill me, Master?"

"In a second," Morinum answered, still grinning at his comment.

"Would… would you miss me?"

"I would miss your body. Certainly not your annoying mouth."

Ryo obediently became silent and lay down again, turning his back to Morinum and closing his eyes. Well, that didn't seem to be too hard. He certainly wasn't as frightened as he was before, and the general didn't seem to be too angry or annoyed with him for making idle chit chat. If he kept it up at this rate, he'd… Ryo paused at this thought. What was he going to get out of this? Morinum certainly wasn't going to set him free any time soon. The only thing he could possibly win out of this process was Morinum's affection, perhaps even his love, if the Spartan were capable of such a thing.

Ryo curled up, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. He didn't want Morinum's love--even his respect was too much to ask. He just wanted to be spared, to be left alone, to never see the general's face again if it were possible.

_ I want love, but not _his_ love… I want respect, but not from him. I want to be left alone, but not forever. So many contradicting things coming together at once. If I can't have one then I'll have to settle for the other. I don't want to, but I have to. I hate my life and yet I want to live. So many, many contradictions… _

The young Trojan closed his sapphire blue eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.


	8. Chapter VIII Enlightenment

**Chapter VIII: Enlightenment**

"What became of Dathae?" King Rowenium inquired of a nearby attendant somewhat impatiently. Usually his blond servant would have arrived in the royal chambers by this time, yet his absence made the king worried.

"I don't know, your majesty," came the apologetic reply from the attendant. "His room is empty and he's not in the dining hall or the baths. I even checked the gardens but-"

"Then he's probably in the wine cellar," Rowenium sighed heavily. "Go see to him. If he can walk, send him to me."

The attendant bowed. "Right away, your majesty."

* * *

Certain enough, Sage Dathae, the fair-headed Athenian, was sitting down in the deepest corner of the massive royal wine cellar, slurring about his misfortunes to Gino the cellar keeper between gulps of heavy, dark wine. The keeper listened with only half an ear; he was used to the young man's occasional visits where he often got drunk off his feet and slept in the cellar, getting a fever from the clammy, cold air. Sage was quite capable of holding his liquor, but after the fourth full bottle, he was rendered quite drunk.

His pale face was flushed pink and his eyes half-lidded and glossy, movements heavy and slow and his tongue lax. "…and Mor'num. _What_! …a bassard. I hade 'im. I hade 'im so mush, Gino. You know how musha hade 'im, Gino?"

The old keeper sighed. "How much, Dathae?"

The blond went silent for a few moments.

"You forgot again, didn't you?"

"No…" Sage insisted. "I hade Mor'num… a lot. He'sh uccha very mean man." He groaned and collapsed on his back. "Poor poor… poor poor poor Ryo." He shook his head pitifully. "Poor poor poor poor… he'sho fren'ly. I hade my stones. Why'd I havva read 'is hand, Gino? It jus' made 'im unappy." Sage sighed. "An' he was so sweeda me men me made love. So sweed…"

Gino patted Sage's chest and winked. "Sure he was. Why don't you call it quits now, young fellow. You've had enough wine for a month."

Sage grimaced. "Fie! I hade myshelf."

At that moment, a breathless servant of the king's appeared around a wine case and cried out in relief. "Thank the gods! I've located you at last. Come, Dathae. The king requests your audience."

Sage sat up off the floor, looking very irritated. "Can you shee I'm-! …" His face went blank. "…I'm _grieving_!? Tell 'is Jamesty, that if he wanna, wanna any innerchange… innerlope… innergrate…" He gave up. "-then he can jus' come down here an', an' _make me_!" He paused for a few seconds. "Dammit!"

The attendant look exhausted all of the sudden, but took a breath and pulled the cantankerous Athenian to his wobbly feet, who swayed back and forth a few times before righting his internal compass and uncrossing his eyes. "I'mmot going." He braced the attendant as they left the cellar.

"I'mmot still going."

* * *

Ryo had nearly dozed off before he was aware of the candle on the desk table being extinguished and the room being cast into darkness behind his closed eyelids. He held his breath and waited for the familiar weight of Morinum settling onto the mattress beside him. He waited. He exhaled silently and waited more. No sound of movement… was Morinum staring at him? Ryo dreaded the thought, especially with his back to the general where he could be easily murdered.

Presently, he heard soft footsteps walk around the bed and past Ryo, to the window. Only when they had stopped for a long time did the Trojan dare to squint his eyes open and peer out between the fuzzy hazes of eyelashes.

Morinum stood at the window, hands on the sill, staring out at the sky. Ryo frowned. He was acting very odd tonight. Perhaps he was ill, or maybe his business today hadn't gone too well, whatever business it may have been. No… Morinum would be angry and cross, had that been true; he would have abused Ryo painfully to make up for his own misfortune, make him feel as if he were in power, dominating a lesser man than he, a slave, his sexual minion.

After a few more moments, the auburn haired man turned and walked back to the bed, and Ryo shut his eyes quickly. Morinum paused, gazed down at the sleeping form of the Trojan ex-general for a while before gliding silently away, opening the chamber door and closing it behind him.

Ryo let out his breath in a heavy sigh and rolled over onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows and staring at the closed bedroom door. _That is odd_, Ryo thought. _He didn't even touch me. He must not be feeling well. Maybe he's ill from travelling, or caught a chill from being out in the night air. It's awfully cold out there when the wind blows. I hope he's all ri- _

He cut himself short and exclaimed out loud, "What am I _thinking_? I don't care! I wouldn't care if he froze to a solid block! The fires of hell will keep _him_ warm enough!"

And with the air of a sulking child, Ryo threw the blankets over his body and curled up in a perfect, indignant pout. The very idea. He must be going mad. Or maybe he was just very tired. Or maybe…

Ryo opened his eyes and stared at the empty place where Morinum would usually lie. He didn't miss the insidious general… but the darkness of the room suddenly seemed ominous, shadows flitting in the corners of his eyes and the bed suddenly very large and lonely.

_ Ha, more room for me,_ Ryo thought with meek reassurance, but curled up very tightly and forced himself to keep his heart from leaping into his throat every time an owl hooted or the wind rustled through the trees outside the window. With that, he gradually fell into a restless sleep, haunted by dreams of ugly beasts and their ugly, helpless offspring being attacked by faceless figures of men with spears. He could almost hear the pitiful cries of the wretched creatures as they died, and he felt so sorry for them, sorry because they were such hideous, deformed beasts that no human could possibly appreciate, creatures that had crawled from the depths of the underworld to walk the earth like monsters. But why did they have to die so brutally…? Didn't these men have mercy? Were they so heartless? But he saw the faceless men wiping the foul blood of the beasts off their bodies and returning home to their wives and families. How horrible--the _men_ were the true beasts here. It made Ryo helplessly angry. What hypocrites. Ryo hated hypocrites.

And in his sleep, tears squeezed from his tightly shut eyelids and hung in his thick lashes like dew on a spider's web.

* * *

The attendant that escorted Dathae to king was very close to begging his Majesty to be thrown to the lions out of mercy; the Athenian was obstinate when sober, when under the influence of alcohol he was even worse. Insulting and badgering and mocking and taunting and being completely disagreeable… it was a wonder the attendant even made it back to the throne room at all.

"Sage Dathae for you, your majesty!" the poor knave shrilled before departing with tainted pride and even lower self-esteem, leaving Rowenium in the room with the drunken blond tottering on his feet weakly. A few servants scampered here and there in the throne room, too absorbed in their tasks to notice the king smile and shake his head.

"What _have_ you done to yourself, Sage?"

The blond looked up with a queasy, annoyed expression. "Why'd you havva send for me t'night, Rowen?"

His majesty stood up from his chair and strode over to his lover. "Oh, I'm not sure… maybe because I'm the king and I can do whatever I want, hm?" He reached out and fingered a strand of Sage's golden hair.

Dathae laughed once, more of a huff and shrug of his shoulders, before staring at the floor. "Fye wazza king… I'd be wanting whatever'd I'd dooed, too."

"You don't sound well."

Sage rolled his glassy violet eyes. "Uh, nuuhhh."

The azure haired young king led the Athenian towards his royal chambers. "Perhaps you should lie down and rest, Sage."

"Haa aaa, with you on toppa me? Bah ha haa… s'no way da get any rest, Ro…"

"Don't argue with your king, knave," Rowenium chided jokingly.

"Yeahyeahyeah…my liege king-thing Fajestmay…" Dathae grumped. "But I'mmot in the mood for iddanight."

* * *

Indeed, and neither was Sage's body apparently; he was too far intoxicated to become aroused and offer the best of his services to his king, but Rowenium didn't seem to mind making love to his –as Dathae had put it earlier- drunken, passed-out body. However, the blond wasn't quite passed out yet; he still had a few conscious moments left to his alcohol-saturated psyche… not that he could have done anything about it. He wasn't going anywhere for a good twelve hours, but it was not as if he were totally numb to his majesty's ministrations. It was pleasing as it usually was, but Sage was too miserable to allow himself to enjoy it. All he could think about was how awful he would be feeling in the morning and what a hell Ryo was in.

The blond felt his lover's hot release flow into him and he did his best to offer up as many pleased-sounding moans as he could summon from his waning energy. Rowenium leaned down and pressed a kiss to his brow. "Don't force yourself to please me, Sage," he whispered.

"Buddizz my job."

"Not now. I lay you down in my bed as an equal. Your only job now is to rest and make yourself well."

"Immot tired," the Athenian mumbled, turning his head away.

Rowenium's brow creased itself in worry and he gently rubbed a warm hand over the milky white flesh of Sage's chest. "You're being quite melancholy tonight," he noted solemnly.

"I'm runk, Dro. Whadda y' esspect?"

"What caused you to drink so much?"

"No one."

"So someone's on your mind, eh?"

"No." Dathae paused. "Yes."

"Who, then?"

"Ryo… Snaddanus. Mor'num's slave."

"Ah," the azure haired young man nodded slightly. "Your friend, no?"

"Yes… uh, no. Er, yessee's my friend but no to the "no" onna enda that question, I… why can't you make this easier?"

"So sorry," Rowenium said. "Why does he make you drink?"

"Cuzzee's mizzzzzerable. Mor'num…" Sage sighed wearily. "He'sho meena Ryo an' Ryo is mizzzzerable an' if my friend's mizzzzerable then I'm mizzzzerable…" He trailed off and then turned to stare at his king with a heart-breaking expression. "Isthn'thre something you can do? Pleazze…" He reached up and patted Rowenium's cheek, or neck actually since his vision was off. "I'll go naked for you… for a month… fora ressa m' life if you take 'im in as your own… he'sho very buttafull… beatafell… mmmpretty."

"Have you had an affair with Ryo?"

"Ha." Sage wasn't drunk enough to tell the truth about _that_. "You godda be… _crazy_ Mor'num would kill me fastaz… a crrrippet jumpin' innoo a fishez noze."

The blue-eyed king smiled warmly down at his lover. "Fishes have noses, love?"

"Dunno about the live 'uns, but I know the dead 'uns smell _really_… yeah. Dead fishez have nozez cuzzay smell."

The king laughed. "You're brilliant when you're intoxicated."

"Yuh should seemee when I'm sober. I'm a… jammed denius."

"Indeed." Rowenium smiled down at Sage's flushed, pink cheeks. "Do you think you'll be feeling better by tomorrow evening?"

"Why? Whaddapans t'morrow ev'ning?"

"The political banquet, remember?"

The blond moaned loudly.

"Leaders of oversea countries will be here tomorrow night to discuss matters of trade and business. A few military leaders have been called as well at General Morinum's request."

Sage frowned. "Why?"

Rowenium rolled his eyes and explained, "He wants to see about rallying other countries to support him in his Trojan extermination project. He might be late since he has matters to attend to in Corinth, but he has assured me that he will be present nonetheless." The king shook his head. "I personally think the man is quite mad, taking matters to this obsessive extreme… but he's the best general this country has ever had. Since he resides here, no one has dared to attack or conquer our city. He keeps it safe."

"His reputation 'swat keeps people away," Dathae grumbled. "I hade that man. He's a cruel bassard."

"Yes, well, I'm not fond of him either. Just try to hold some respect for him since he is keeping you and I safe."

"S'ard to respet the man who's killing my best frien'."

Rowenium looked slightly guilty for a few moments and said nothing, then changed the subject. "Will you be able to pour wine for the banquet tomorrow evening?"

"Yes," Sage agreed laconically, even though he didn't like being the minion of wine. Guests were often rude, loud and boisterous after they had had a few drinks, and he knew that his majesty enjoyed showing off what a lovely slave he owned. Those who saw him hailed him as the most beautiful man they had ever seen, but those were only empty compliments induced by alcohol that did nothing to boost Sage's pride. Gods, then there were those disgusting old men who hooted and whistled at him like he was a harem girl, slapping his rear and he leaned down to pour wine and groping up under his tunic. Rowenium would laugh along with the men as Sage did all he could to slap their greedy hands away and run, humiliated and angry, to his king's side where he sought refuge from the crude guests.

However, the king could be jealous when he wanted, so the other men never got more than a few feels off of Dathae before Rowenium called him back to his side and explained to his guests that the Athenian was strictly his property and that no one should be defiling his property. Dathae actually liked it when his king claimed possession to him like that, making him feel loved and wanted. When they were out of public eye they were the perfect lovers, kind and caring and compassionate for one another… but there were always facts: Rowenium was a married man, a king, a ruler, and Sage was a lowly slave. They could never claim anything to each other officially; it was not something easily tolerated by people. It was fine if it was all kept hidden, a secret that everyone knew, but anything else was unheard of.

Though Rowenium loved Sage more than his often ignored wife, he was expected to produce an heir to the throne, a son to be king after he stepped down. Dathae's days as the king's lover were numbered; as soon as the queen's child would be born, Rowenium would have to take on the responsibility of rearing his progeny… something Dathae would have no part of. His relationship with the king would be terminated, and he would probably become a normal palace slave, a royal attendant if he were lucky. Then he might at least be able to see his majesty once a month or something equally as prolonged.

But that was only if Morinum didn't exact his final revenge on his lifelong enemy first. Dathae had always been keenly aware of that sinister light to the general's eyes each time they lay upon his person. Though the feuding between Sparta and Athens had experienced a recent calm, it made no difference to either of them. Years had passed since the defeat of Troy and still Morinum hunted the destroyed city's people down and killed them, an eternal grudge that consumed his heart with the fires of malice and hatred. And for what? It was a question often asked by many people, to themselves of course. As time progressed, Morinum's obsession had become a thing to be counted upon; as sure as the sun would rise in the east and set in the west.

No one ever questioned why the sun rises or sets. It simply did, _because_ it could, and it did. Morinum destroyed _because_ he could, and he did. It was miraculous and piteous at the same time.

* * *

Ryo awoke instinctively when the morning sunlight began to creep over the horizon, and found himself in an empty bed. He leaned over and felt the mattress for any sign of warmth, any trace of presence. Nothing. Morinum had never returned last night. It made Ryo fretful. He got out of bed and splashed water onto his face from the washbasin, freshening up and put on a clean chiton. He combed his long hair back and pinned it up haphazardly, not really caring what it looked like.

Upon leaving the room and heading for the dining hall, he inquired of his escort what had become of the general. "He left before dawn to attend business in a nearby city," the guard replied gruffly. "He should return by nightfall or shortly after. He's attending the banquet this evening at the palace."

"There will be a banquet here?"

"Don't get your hopes up," the burly man grouched. "_You're_ not invited."

Ryo ignored the rudeness he had become accustomed to and wondered what Dathae would be doing, if he would be attending the banquet. Maybe there was some way he could talk to him… no particular reason why; Ryo sorely missed the company of his blond friend.

The young Trojan focused his mind on what Dathae had told him the previous day as he sat down to eat his morning meal, the guard standing a little ways off and making idle chit chat to one of the other guards.

_ You've got to be strong,_ is what the blond had told him._ You are not allowed to die in the walls of this palace. You cannot. You must take heart and endure this. _

But how could Ryo possibly endure this agony and repression another day? He had no plan, no strategy, nothing that could possibly save him from his misery. And then, almost like an answer to his thoughts, he remembered Dathae's words: _Have you ever tried loving him, Ryo? It may be easier than hating him. _

Love? He had already insisted that loving General Morinum was an impossibility. Ryo would rather die than love that creature. But… perhaps if he _pretended_ to love him… The Roman felt his pulse quicken as the idea began to take root and grow. Yes, _pretend_ to love Morinum. It would be a horrible, traitorous thing to do but the price of freedom was often as high as this. Make some sacrifices, lose your face for just a little while, exercise your own brand of treachery. It was brilliant. Morinum would see that Ryo had no desire to disobey him if he loved him, and he would probably lift the rules on him a little. Not all at once, no, this would take time, like all crafty plans. But it would pay off in the end. As soon as Ryo had the chance, he would break out of this hellhole, killing as many of this palace's hellish occupants as he could. Well, except Dathae and a few of the servants. And except Gino the cellar keeper and that nice old woman who tended the gardens. And except a few of the court ladies who fancied him. And maybe the blockheaded guard Milos-

Ryo stopped. Who would be left to kill? Only Morinum? The Roman suddenly realised that after five years of living in this place he had indeed made friendly acquaintances with the Greeks. Unbelievable. Ryo himself had never seemed to notice… he clenched his fists and stared at his plate. All the more reason to get out of here. Soon he would start loving these people and _then_ how could he get his revenge? It was like an infection slowly taking over his mind. He had to segregate himself again, return to Rome in his memory and to hating the people who killed his family and home. But Morinum, that awful Morinum… he would get what was coming to him. Ryo was sure of it. When the time came, Morinum would be on his knees and weeping like a child.

The thought of this filled Ryo with hope and happiness and the future suddenly seemed much brighter and promising. So Morinum would be back this evening? Excellent. Ryo had all day to plan his first, slow move toward freedom.


	9. Chapter IX Treachery

**Chapter IX: Treachery**

****_The city of Mycenae, noon_

A small party of seven rode through the crowded, dusty streets on horses, winding their way down to where the harbour of the city lay. The massive white sails of the Greco ships billowed and gleamed brightly in the sunlight like great sets of lungs as they either came to or left the docks. Their sturdy wooden bodies cut through the water like knives, sending sprays of sea water bursting up from the bows as oars on either sides dug into the ocean and sprang up again.

General Morinum trotted his horse briskly through the wharf amidst the shouts of men handling crates of cargo and tying ropes. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of the sea. He wished it had been his only reason he had come to Mycenae instead of Corinth--to enjoy the sea. Often he thought of becoming the captain of a ship when he retired from his military services, thinking of no better way to die than at the helm of a great ship, fighting a monsoon heroically as he went down with her into Poseidon's realm. He would die by nature, not by man. It was the only thing capable of killing him anyway.

He reflected briefly upon his reasons for duplicity with Rowenium; it wasn't completely untrue that he was on his way to meet with a few powerful allies against Troy. It was just a different city, and a much shorter trip. He would most certainly be able to keep his appointment with the other military leaders at the banquet that evening. Still, he had knowingly lied to his majesty, but what his majesty didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Agamemnon was the ruler of this city and his brother Menelaus was the king of Sparta, and one of Morinum's personal and close comrades, the first king he had become a general under and whom applauded Morinum's excellent work with the defeat of the Trojans. Menelaus was always behind his favoured general in any of his destructive endeavours and had sent word to his brother Agememnon hailing Morinum generously. The king of Mycenae said he would be more than delighted to meet with the renowned General Morinum and looked forward to entertaining him and his officers and hearing of his future conquests to eradicate the Trojan bloodlines. Morinum also spoke of some additional plans that were highly confidential and kept secret; only he and a few of his highest officers knew what this plan was, and until the time came, it would remain that way.

They approached the palace gates and guards opened them, letting Morinum and his men pass through and into the heart of Mycenae, where ill deeds and treacherous plans were soon to be made.

* * *

It was peaceful outside the military hall of Mycenae. Birds chirped merrily, the warm afternoon breeze swept through the trees and grass of the gardens, and the sky was blue and cheerful. However, from between the granite columns of the palace, hushed voices talked of things that were anything but peaceful.

King Agamemnon and his attendants sat to the side, silently observing the party as General Morinum unrolled a map upon the marble table, and his flanking officers held down the corners while he scrawled upon its surface with a piece of graphite. "We've had a stroke of luck these past few days, gentlemen," he said gravely. "Twelve rebel Trojans seized just outside of Argos, that's more than the usual fare."

"It's those damnable mercenaries," the Mycenaen commander, Metrius, commented, rubbing his chin. "They're paid by land owners to capture what's left of the Trojan people and send them to Greece as slaves. Cheap labour. Some of them may have escaped already and could be roaming the countryside, free. I know for a fact that at least three evaded us today."

"It is only a matter of time," Morinum muttered. "I will not stop until every last one of them is dead."

From the back came a voice: "Isn't that a bit extreme, General?"

The Spartan slowly gazed up from the map, and his officers backed away from his vicious eyes to reveal the young lieutenant who had spoke up. "I beg your pardon, sir?" Morinum's voice held as much potential energy as a cobra poised for the strike. Agamemnon smiled slightly, certain that he was about to see the legendary temper of the Spartan general that had such famed notoriety.

The lieutenant paled. "I… it just seems that perhaps we're overdoing things."

"Overdoing?"

"Ah… well, sir, the Greek army has already destroyed Troy. Her survivors wander around as vagrants and orphans. Is that not enough, sir? We have exacted revenge for whatever reason we have; it seems unreasonable to exterminate them all."

Morinum walked over to the young soldier slowly and stared down at him without expression. "You wish for us to cease this action?"

The lieutenant's eyes were huge. "W-well, General," he stammered. "There are more important matters to attend to instead of chasing after individual people."

"Ha," Morinum sneered. "You still call them people, eh?"

"Vengeance is no way to live a life-"

The general had drawn his sword in a flash and had it pressed to the young man's throat. "Headless is no way to live a life, either. I despise those who sympathise with our enemies. They are traitors."

"And I despise those who are filled with undying hatred. They are traitors to their hearts."

Morinum lashed out and struck the young officer in the face with his fist; he reeled back on wobbly legs as the general hissed, "Watch your insolent mouth, scamp. You will respect my authority and my decisions, is that clear?"

The lieutenant nodded, dobbing up the blood that trickled from his nose. "Of course, General. I was blind to not have seen that you are far more reasonable a man than I." Somehow the young lieutenant succeeded in making his remark as snide and condescending as it could be, and a few of the other officers chuckled at the lad's gutsy courage, even the king. Morinum, however, was fit to rampage at any second after being sassed in front of someone like the king of Mycenae--this defiant petulance reminded him too much of his little Roman slave back in Rowenia, and the lieutenant's comment sounded too much like something the gutsy Sanadus would retort.

_ Sanadus… _

Morinum's fierce expression softened vaguely as he recalled his slave that had been absent from his mind for some time. Ryo was home in the palace, awaiting Morinum's return like an obedient yet reluctant companion.

_ Companion… _

He would arrive at the gates with his officers, would retreat to his quarters where the beautiful young Trojan would be, standing at the window or lying on the bed. And Morinum would grin at him uncouthly just to see Ryo shudder, and he would let his beautiful hair down.

_ Beautiful..._

And Morinum would run his fingers through it, would grip and knead the fleshy thighs he never grew tired of spreading, and he would take the whimpering young man and dominate his every-

One of the officers cleared his throat loudly. "Uh, General Morinum, sir."

The auburn haired man was awakened out of his reverie and focused his attention on the still bleeding lieutenant. "Not another word out of you," he admonished darkly, and the young officer nodded. Morinum returned his attention to the maps on the table, though not completely, thoughts drifting back to his sensual slave in lax moments or when his subordinates were discussing what possible idiotic plans they could concoct to rid the plague of Trojans.

King Agamemnon interrupted at one point, "It seems that these plans to scrape away the Trojans are indeed admirable…" He frowned slightly. "But what of Rowenia?"

"Ah, Rowenia," Morinum said with a slight sneer on his lips. "It seems that King Rowenium grows tired of these so-called charades I've so painstakingly thought out; he does not think it worth the time to destroy the Trojans completely."

Several officers scoffed at the mention of the king's name.

Morinum continued, "He insists that my plans are brutal and barbaric, like the city that raised me."

"Sparta," Agamemnon murmured thoughtfully. "My brother's kingdom."

"Indeed, your Majesty. Rowenium has no plans to send his soldiers out into battle to destroy the Trojan weeds; if they are not uprooted now, they will only grow back and Troy will be resurrected."

The king of Mycenae scowled darkly. "And what is your strategy to prevent this from happening, General?"

The auburn haired Spartan smiled poisonously. "Overthrow Rowenium and his court of spineless fools. If he will not support our cause, then that cause will be his undoing."

"Rather bold of you, Morinum," the king commented, but didn't disagree.

"Your Majesty," Morinum continued. "Rowenium is weak and naïve, all he thinks about is the whimsical aestheticism of his people. He is a thinker, not a doer, and is not fit to rule a kingdom or make decisions about the strong army that I myself have raised within his walls. My soldiers are loyal, and they all stand with me under any cause. I have put the fear of my wrath and fury into them and they would rather to die than disobey me."

"So you've already earned a multitude of loyal subjects," Agamemnon said.

"Correct, your Majesty, and not just in Rowenium. The armies and generals of Sparta, Corinth, Pylos, Troezen and Firyns hold faith in me. All that is left to be done is to quietly and swiftly push Rowenium from the seat of power."

The king nodded. "Very resourceful and organised of you. But… who shall rule in Rowenium's place?"

"For the time being, myself, sire, until we can find a suitable replacement," Morinum replied. "I have no fancy to rule cities."

"Only conquering or destroying them, eh?" Agamemnon joked, and several of the people in the room chuckled softly, not to Morinum's chagrin.

The general smiled superiourly. "In a matter of speaking, yes, your Majesty. Martial law will be enforced once Rowenium is dethroned, much like that of Sparta if the king were to fall ill. Organised soldiers have more sense of justice than those dusty old windbags who have never seen action."

"I see. And what do you plan to do once Rowenia has been overtaken?"

"Rally the armies of every Greek city, sire," the Spartan general said darkly. "Build the largest, most skilled military the world has ever seen and lead a great siege against the remnants of Troy."

"And after that, General?"

"Destroy anyone else who stands in our way. We are Greece, the unconquerable and undefeated. We will show Rome and all other countries just what a formidable, tamed fury we are, and in doing so, we will earn the awe, fear and respect of any country who shall even think of making a strike against Greece. We will be, your Majesty, the most powerful force in mortal flesh."

Agamemnon was silent for a few moments, digesting this proposition carefully. Morinum gazed at the king expectantly as his officers held their breaths. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, the king of Mycenae smiled and said, "I find your proposal very thorough and well planned, General. I have never much liked Rowenium's position and pacifist ideology. Thus, I gladly accept and acknowledge your intentions. The army of Mycenae will always be behind your own."

Had Morinum been capable of laughing wholeheartedly, he would have done so at this time… but since he did not possess this trait, he nodded obediently and said, "Thank you, your Majesty. Your seal is required upon these scrolls to be recognised as legal consent, if you would oblige." Morinum picked up a few small scrolls of parchment and delivered them to Agamemnon's attendant, who gave them to the king.

"I will," the Mycenaen ruler stated. "For when do you plan the de-coronation of Rowenium?"

"It will not be much longer, your Majesty," Morinum replied. "I will send a messenger to Commander Metrius a few days before the overthrow so your soldiers will have time to prepare themselves. As Rowenia's closest neighbour, your military's presence will be imperative to our success."

"And I wish you great success, General."

"Thank you, sir." Morinum bowed gratefully. "I do no wish to seem rude but it is several hour's ride back to Rowenia and it is growing late in the day. I am afraid I must beg your dismissal, your Majesty."

"Very well, General," said Agamemnon. "I shall seal these scrolls and have you on your way shortly. You are indeed a true Spartan soldier."

The auburn haired general nodded solemnly as he won yet another unofficial and personal victory. He had already completed a lifetime's worth of ultimate goals, risen to ranks unseen by men of his age and was now the very father of a plan to turn the Greek army into something the world had never seen before. He was the leader of this, he was the creator, he had the ideas and the skills and the strategy and the competence and the wily, gritty fibre that was composed of every famous general, and he was only half their age. It was unimaginable where he would be when he was an old man. He'd be immortalised, worshipped, hailed as the greatest general of all time, he'd be as well-known and talked about as the gods themselves; and still his Spartan roots would keep him humble and arrogantly modest. He was the perfect tool for war: brains, strength and-

Was that all? It had to be. Deep underneath the handsome features, underneath the strength, underneath the mind and cunning, there was a quiet, empty hollow inside of his chest, about the size of a fist, that had been forgotten and ignored and was never filled. He did not wish to fill this place, nor did anyone else wish to fill it. If this fissure were not there, Morinum would be a different man than the one seen today, someone other than the one who ruthlessly planned mutiny on his own king and the one who delighted in the torture and misery of others.

It was not difficult to realise that this hollow, this cavity, this figurative, empty cavern of darkness was where Morinum's heart used to be.

* * *

The brunette general adjusted his horse's saddle deftly, his mouth unusually silent and his demeanor somewhat depressed, his thoughts on other things. His officers noticed and gave each other odd looks, knowing how moody Morinum could be after intense business had been conducted. It wasn't like it had gone bad--they had been successful in their alliance, after all… and yet Morinum was not in the mood to be thrilled by it. Simply another task completed, as menial and mundane as sleeping or eating.

As they mounted their horses and trotted briskly back through the streets of the kingdom, they hadn't the faintest ideas in their heads that they were being watched by a figure wearing a dark, ragged cloak, who inconspicuously and with the utmost caution, slowly began to follow them.


	10. Chapter X Reckoning

**Chapter X: Reckoning**

As it drew nearer and nearer to sunset, Ryo began to get butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He had been thinking about his plot all day long, anxiety and nervousness building up inside of him like storm clouds with each passing hour. Soon he would have to face Morinum with every ounce of courage and self-possession he had to make that first slow strike against the general responsible for his slavery and miserable life. Ryo knew that calmness and temper were not on his side, not with his passionate, outspoken heart. It would be hard for him to suppress the urges to fight or flee… but if it meant gaining freedom from this place, he was willing to do or try anything.

Despite the fact that this was all for a reasonable cause, Ryo felt like he was betraying himself to even think of attempting to falsely seduce a man whom he hated more than any living creature. Alas, there was simply no other way this could be done. If Morinum thought himself a treacherous man, just wait till he saw what his little Trojan slave was capable of.

Ryo made a simple request for a mantle, using the excuse that he had a chill from being around so much granite and marble. It was a soft yellow ochre colour, made of the same material as his plain white chiton that he now wore, the coloured sash draped loosely over his left shoulder and tucked into the right side of his belt. Since it would be rather unfitting for a young man like Ryo to wear a chiton at a length reserved for older or more powerful men, the sides of the skirt were cleaved on both sides to mid thigh. Younger men usually wore short chitons or garments that revealed skin to signify their boyishness and unprotected vulnerability. With Morinum, Ryo never felt more vulnerable in his life, even if he was to wear three layers of cloth, leather and steel.

The young Trojan sat before a small mirror propped up on the desk, combing his long raven hair gently and meditatively, staring at his nervous expression looking back at him. With unconscious skill, he separated several large tendrils and curled them around small wooden hairpins, placing them on top of his head where he pinned them in place. Wispy strands of ebony fell loose and curled naturally, framing his face and making his large blue eyes more prominent.

He had bathed earlier and snuck back to Morinum's room –his prison cell- to soak his skin with the mixture of water, olive oil, finely ground herbs and flowers he had collected from the garden earlier that morning and boiled--a homemade perfume. He had also sprinkled hematite powder into a shallow dish of olive oil, given to him a long time ago by none other than Dathae to be used as a pigment. Ryo rubbed it over his full, soft lips with his little finger, tinting them a deep shade of pink and making them look very supple.

Then he sat back and regarded his reflection with something of a foreign look on his face. _If I had a twin sister_, he thought. _I guess this is what she would look like._ He leaned closer and stared at himself, at his clothes, at his hair. "You look like a Greek," he said to his reflection somewhat bitterly. "A Greek woman. Even worse, a Greek prostitute. Are you really Ryo Sanadus?"

He sighed and placed the mirror flat on the desk, getting up and walking to the window. It was twilight. It wouldn't be long now.

Ryo gulped. "I guess I'd better go wait for him."

* * *

"Weeeeell, hello to you, fine young thing. You look like you could benefit from a rest. Perhaps a seat in my lap will raise your spirits."

The bearded politician that was old enough to be his father leered at Sage Dathae, who was leaning over the slightly to pour wine into the cup the man purposely held away. The blond gave the lecher an icy, ill glare from his single lavender eye and the man cleared his throat nervously. "I see… too busy for a rest."

_ No; too good for an ass like you_, Dathae thought grouchily as he poured the wine and made his way back to the head of the immensely long table to stand at his king's side. So far the political banquet was going quite well, having started with a long discussion about the important things first before moving onto the more leisurely of matters. Of course, everyone was still sober and Rowenium was peppering the occasion with speeches here and there, but so far it was going well. The most important and revered politicians sat closest to the king--they were the ones that actually had something in their heads other than the desire to eat, drink and be merry.

There were two kinds of banquets that Dathae hated, and this was one of them. However, it was not his least desired genre; military banquets were the worst of all. Gods, those men had no morals and the older they were, the worse they were. The slender Athenian counted himself lucky if he had not been roughly molested or humiliatingly exposed after one of those. The politicians weren't as bad, but they were creepy, old and disgusting. At least _some_ of the military men were attractive. There had even been a few times where Sage hadn't minded being petted or caressed by a handsome warrior, but Rowenium would see the enjoyment on Dathae's features and jealously call him back to his side.

But Sage was not in any mood for coy games or perverted jokes this evening. He had a raging headache from drinking so much the day before, something that was remedied by neither poultices nor herbs nor even prayers to Asclepius, the god of healing. Dathae was feeling quite short of temper and incredibly exhausted. His head pounded from the loud voices and the annoying sound of flutes and lyres, and he tried to keep up with the rapidly emptying wine cups, regretting having ever agreed to be of service this particular night.

* * *

Ryo nervously eased the doors of his room open with a creak, venturing out timidly. His guard was nowhere to be found; he must have left to patrol the other corridors while strangers were present in the palace. From down the hall he heard boisterous voices and faint music; he checked left and right, saw a few people haunting the other corridors, and he silently slipped from the room and shut the doors behind himself, remembering to walk as if he were any other person as he made his way to the large, open air greeting hall where he would sit and await Morinum's return.

Ryo scarcely noticed the stares he was getting from everyone who crossed his path. Men and women alike regarded him in silent awe, astounded by the beauty of the creature that floated by, immersed in his own thoughts. Ryo was almost trembling in nervousness; he began to rethink his plan. Perhaps Morinum would be angry if his officers saw him waiting there like a dog waits for his master. Perhaps Morinum would ignore him. Perhaps something will delay the general and Ryo could be out waiting for him all night, for nothing. So many doubts, so many ways this could go wrong.

But _if_ he showed up, _if_ he wasn't angry with Ryo, _if_ he wasn't being a horrible tyrant tonight… then there was a high possibility that the Roman would succeed in his plan.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder suddenly and a voice said, "Excuse me, sir."

Ryo turned around to see a tall, very beautiful woman standing before him, dressed finely, looking to be someone of importance. Ryo instantly became self-conscious of himself, of the very feminine way he was looking, and felt his cheeks grow hot. To make things worse, she had somehow detected his gender even through the disguise; she probably knew that he was a concubine, which made it all the more unbearable. How humiliating that a man should forced to serve a woman's purpose. There were no male prostitutes in Rome and yet here he was, playing a role as one.

"Are you on your way to the banquet?" she inquired, her voice soothing, like warm velvet.

Ryo choked. "Uhh…"

"Could you deliver this to Colonel Daeus?" She handed Ryo a small scroll. "It's a short message from the city council of Argos. He's to be there tomorrow instead of the day after, and the messengers just brought this to me."

"Can't you deliver it yourself?" Ryo asked slowly, feeling quite stupid.

The lady smiled. "Women are not permitted to attend political meetings. I could not."

"Oh." Ryo briefly reflected upon the fact that since he looked like a woman, he just might be thrown out. Well, if this lady could see through his disguise, then perhaps the other patrons of the banquet could, too. It was rather hard to hide his masculine biceps, legs and muscled chest, after all. Though slaves like he were not permitted to the banquet, perhaps no one would recognise him. He'd be all right. Get in, give the message to this Daeus person and remove himself as quickly as possible. No problem.

Ryo nodded. "Certainly, my lady. I could deliver this for you."

* * *

The banquet had quite the air of a symposium **[1]** by the time Ryo made his way into the andron, the most well-appointed room of the place, reserved for important people like philosophers, politicians and men of arms. Though there were political and military matters to be discussed, the mood was light, rowdy and boisterous. Many of the patrons were rather intoxicated by even the watered down wine, and people had retired from the banquet table to sit upon the couches that lined the walls of the large room, being entertained by many a lovely young lyre-playing boy. Between the talking and the music and the slightly drunken men attempting to sing along to the music, it was quite loud for Ryo's sensitive ears. He was one who dwelled in the silence of a locked room where hardly anyone ever spoke to him, aside from himself. His ears had grown used to a soundless world. Now he entered a completely different one, loud and rollicking and unrestrained. It was also incredibly happy. Sounds of laughter were constantly punctuating the air.

Ryo wanted to smile and laugh and sing along with them, but he was far too timid to do so. Besides, he had come here to deliver a message, not partake of the fun that he was not invited to be a guest of. The young Roman carefully stepped into the midst of the fun-loving Greeks with caution, and like a young lamb venturing into a den of wolves, received hungry stares of appreciation and wonton lust from all sides. Several times he was jostled or bumped by the oblivious wine server or musician as they entertained guests.

Suddenly, Ryo saw a glimpse of blond in the corner of his eye, and turned to see Dathae sharing a kline **[2]** with Rowenium himself. Ryo stopped and gawked--he had never seen his friend in the king's presence, and was moved by what he saw: Sage was sitting dully with his legs over the edge of the upholstered chaise, not looking at all well, perhaps a little feverish, and his expression was tired. The young, azure haired king was sitting behind him, gently caressing his lover's golden locks in a soothing way and moving his lips slowly, speaking soft words to Dathae that could not be heard a few feet away, let alone across the room. Ryo watched a smile slowly spread across Sage's lips and he turned around slightly to say something to his Majesty… they kissed briefly, then the king returned to his calm, meditative petting while the golden haired Athenian sat back and enjoyed it. It was obvious that there was something else between the two men aside from their duties; it was love.

Ryo felt something sharp and cold tear into his soul as he watched them, standing in the middle of the room like a dumbfounded fool. Tears flooded his eyes.

_ I want that,_ he thought. _I want to be held like that. I want to be loved like that. Why can't I be loved like that? Why do I continue to suffer? Why do I have to be deceitful to my country to accomplish anything here? Why can't I have it that easy? Why must I be locked away, imprisoned, enslaved, exploited, raped, dishonoured, humiliated? Why did I have to be captured by Morinum, the general without a heart? Why him? Why me? And why must I stand here and watch everyone else enjoying the benefits of love? It is not fair. It is not fair. _

Ryo blinked and hot tears coursed from each pain-ridden blue eye. The weight of the scroll in his hand reminded him of his duty, and he wiped the moisture from his cheeks and took a breath. He wanted to deliver this damned message and just get out, get away. He wanted to die. He wanted to kill himself. He could drown himself since it was the closest possibility. No one was at the bathhouse this time of night. No guard was watching him. He could kill himself now and end his misery. It was useless to play pretend games like this. Completely useless. He was a fool to believe that he could trick Morinum into "loving" him. The man could neither be tricked nor loved. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.

"Excuse me," Ryo stopped one of the wine servers. "Do you know where I might find Colonel Daeus? I have a message for him."

The attendant pointed to a group of four men, perhaps a couple of years older than Ryo, in the corner of the room, laughing and bantering with cups of wine in their hands. They were a strange looking group; one of the men looked almost Egyptian with his long, reddish brown hair, narrow green eyes and hieroglyphic-like ear locks. Another had wild, dark hair and a scar underneath his eye, and yet another had almost greenish hair, yellow skin and a very snake-like face. The last one looked much older than the others, his hair pure white and long. However, as Ryo got a good look at his face he realised that the man was young as well, although he sported an eyepatch over his left eye which made him look battle-scarred and experienced despite his age.

"Thank you," Ryo said to the server without turning his head, but the lad had already disappeared into the crowd. Ryo swallowed down feelings of unease and slowly walked to the corner of the room. As he approached, they stopped laughing and gazed up at him with piercing eyes, a few of their mouths hanging open slightly.

"Uh…" he stammered shyly. "Which one of you is Colonel Daeus?"

The man with the eye patch set his wine on one of the low tables and said with a lewd smile, "This is indeed a pleasant surprise. I've never had someone send such a lovely favour for me to do."

"I must say, I'm jealous," the Egyptian man said with a deep chuckle. "You get all the fine boys, Colonel."

"I've never seen a Greek as fine as this," commented the snakish-looking man, reaching out to touch the bare skin of Ryo's thigh as it showed from the part in his chiton skirt.

Ryo blushed angrily and pulled away, indignant and insulted. "For your information, I am Roman." He turned to Daeus. "And I'm here to deliver a message to you. _Sir_." He held the scroll out to the Colonel but he didn't move to take it, instead gazing at Ryo with his one pale blue eye, a crafty grin on his lips.

"Roman, eh? You must be a slave."

"…yes," Ryo hesitantly answered.

"Gorgeous for a common drudge," the Egyptian commented, looking Ryo from head to toe.

"Excellent," sneered the man with the scar under his eye, tickling Ryo's bare arm with the long peacock feather he had pulled from a nearby decorative vase and was waving around idly. The young man pulled away from the feather and literally shoved the scroll into Daeus' hands. "Here is your message. I'm leaving now."

But Ryo didn't move fast enough; Daeus grabbed his wrist and held him in place. "You forgot something, slave."

"No, I didn't," Ryo insisted boldly despite the fear running a fast circuit in his blood.

"Yes, you did. You did not address me as master." The three other men laughed loudly as Ryo tried in vain to free his wrist from the Colonel's grasp.

"I address no one as master," Ryo snapped, although it was a lie. There was but _one_ man whom he called Master, but his fierce Roman pride would not allow him to say so.

Daeus licked his lips. "Then I suppose you'll have to be taught some respect now, won't you?"

Ryo felt a hand touch his thigh and thought, _gods, no! I won't let them!_ He twisted violently and freed his hand, but the other three men were prepared, the green-haired one grabbing him about the hips and pulling him down into his lap. Ryo struggled desperately but the man's hands clamped his arms to his sides, pinning him helplessly.

_ No! Not again! Not this way!_ "Stop!" Ryo cried. "Let me go!"

"Yes, Sekhmet, let him go!" the one with the scar mimicked cruelly.

"He came to deliver the message to _me_," Daeus pouted. "I should have the first indulgence, if not total indulgence."

"You always have the first of everything," the Egyptian snapped.

"Well, I _am_ older and of a higher position than you, Anubis. I have a right to go first."

"Not always. Cael and I hardly _ever_ manage to seduce our share of boys." Anubis indicated his friend with the facial scar, who nodded enthusiastically.

"He's right, Daeus. We're tired of you not sharing with us."

"I'll share him as long as I go first. You should count yourselves lucky that I'm around, otherwise you might never manage on your own!"

During the course of this argument, Ryo was scrabbling and squirming to get free, held tightly by the one called Sekhmet; the horrible man breathed onto his neck and kept one arm around his chest, holding his arms still while a hand roamed up under Ryo's chiton. The more the hand explored, the more the Roman wriggled.

He felt the darkness, the dirtiness, an invisible fingerprint that glowed upon his flesh with each touch. That horrible feeling of when Morinum violated Ryo for the first time out in the pavilion… that was what he felt now. But why did this touch feel so much more wicked and unclean than the general's? Why was this so new and strange to Ryo? He had been raped enough times that yet another incident didn't really matter. Just another notch in the wall, right? Wrong.

"Don't!" Ryo cried weakly as Cael sat on the kline beside Sekhmet and began to grope at Ryo's clothes, undoing them and hands straying to bare flesh. The Roman burst into a chronicle of pulls, tugs and squirms to get free, trying to get on his feet where he could anchor himself and pull away. Alas, the more he struggled the tighter he was held, until he was almost choking for the pain, like a helpless mouse caught in a python's coils. He felt Sekhmet's hand slither between his legs, grasp his sex and he burst into frantic struggles again, now completely desperate, filled with panic.

"Let me have him, you spoilsports," Daeus snapped impatiently, eager for a piece of the young slave.

"Stop, please…" Ryo begged in a whisper, forgetting about demanding his release any longer. These men were deaf to his words, pleas and orders alike. "I'll do anything…!" He attempted to bargain with them, although he had nothing with which to bargain. Before he could move or react he was passed into the colonel's arms, and the pale-haired warrior began to kiss the base of Ryo's neck.

Ryo gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. "Nnhh… please… let me go."

"Address me as master and I will," Daeus whispered darkly.

Ryo's temper flared at the idea, his pride insulted. No man was his master, no one, not even Morinum. He would rather be raped a thousand times than to call this despicable creature by the name of master. "Never! I know your kind. You're a liar like any other Greek bastard!"

"Oh, ho ho," Daeus chortled, suddenly placing his knee betwixt Ryo's legs. "I can make you eat those words, slave." His hand slid up under the Roman's sash, roving over the firm, soft flesh of Ryo's chest and stomach. On either side of him, Anubis and Cael leaned over and spread his legs apart, making the raven-haired Trojan buck and churn wildly in the rough embraces that held him fast.

This wasn't right. He had dressed this way to please Morinum; now his chiton was wrinkled and his mantle removed. He had arranged his hair to make the Spartan desire him; now his hair fell free of their pins and into the hands of four strangers. He had perfumed himself to please his master; now he was tainted with the scent of these men who were defiling him, marring the property of another.

They all laughed cruelly at his helplessness, and Ryo felt wet mouths on his thighs, tongues caressing his flesh, teeth biting into his shoulder. He cried out wordlessly as loud as he could, for anyone to come to his rescue, but no one could hear him over the music and the singing and the loud voices of the drunken banquet-goers. It was shameful; he was so helpless, a man like he, once a general, now thrust into the belly of this sinful land where even the greatest, noblest man became a slave for other men to rape, dominate, violate and disgrace. It shouldn't be this way. It shouldn't be this way.

Across the room, Dathae became alert. That voice, that cry, it sounded like Ryo. But Ryo could not be here, he was not allowed. The blond's keen lavender eyes scanned the crowd for that shock of brilliant black and blue. Someone moved to the side and Dathae saw him, saw Ryo being molested by those four men, and his stomach rolled over in utter horror. He immediately turned around and grabbed the neck of Rowenium's mantle in his hands, crying, "Rowen! Gods, they're trying to rape him! Do something! They've got Ryo! You've got to stop them!"

Rowenium frowned slightly. "Ryo? The slave? What's he doing here? He's not supposed to-"

"Rowen…" Sage begged desperately, head whipping back and forth from Ryo to the king. "Rowen, please, they're going to hurt him! Make them stop! Order them! Please, for the love of the gods-"

"He is not supposed to be here," Rowenium muttered laconically. "He came of his own accord; I am not responsible for what happens to him."

"But they're defiling him!"

"He's a slave. That's his job. What do I care? He is not mine. Let his master worry about what becomes of him."

Sage stared at his lover's heartless remark in wide-eyed shock. "How could you say that?"

Rowenium glared. "Because it is true. Now be silent. I will not be ordered around by a knave."

The Athenian closed his mouth and gave Rowenium the most horrific expression his beautiful face could manage, scooting over to the opposite end of the kline and curled himself into a knot, covering his ears so he would not hear Ryo's cries and pleas. Tears formed behind his tightly shut eyes, not to fall until he opened them again.

The four men were enjoying themselves, but mainly Ryo; four mouths and four pairs of hands were on him at once, leaving no part of his body untouched by their greed. His cries had fallen to defeated moans and whimpers, his struggling had ceased and now he lay passive, conquered. He could feel the colonel's erection protruding against the flesh of his rear, and he wondered how much longer it would be and how it would feel to be raped by four men at once. Ryo sobbed again.

_Mother… mother, if you can see me now, just turn your head. Don't watch your son be taken like a harlot. Don't watch my spirit, my hope and my heart die for the thousandth time. Don't cry, Mother. I'll be all right. Soon this will be over and I'll be with you shortly. I'll be with you._

And suddenly, a picture of someone formed itself in Ryo's head. Someone who could save him, someone who could punish these horrible men for the way he was being treated. It wasn't Dathae, who was a slave like he and could only threaten with a bluff of the king's power. It wasn't the king--he didn't care what happened to Ryo. _He_ was the man responsible for keeping him here. No, the only person who could save Ryo, the only man who inspired that feeling of terrific awe, fear and tyranny, the very man whom Ryo hated with all his might and yet suddenly realised he needed more than any other person right now… was Morinum.

Ryo sobbed in anguish and tears began to flow. Gods, no, that realisation was even worse than what was being done to him now. He needed Morinum? The man responsible for his captivity and torture? Yes, Ryo needed him. Where was he? Where was he when Ryo actually _needed_ him, when Ryo actually _wanted_ him? Of all the times, he had to be absent at this very moment! Why, gods, why!

"You're running out of time, boy," Daeus sneered. "One word. Say it. Call me master. You'll be forced to if I get any further with you. Although, I doubt you could count on my stopping. I simply _adore_ this Roman flesh of yours." Ryo felt Daeus begin to shift, looking for the place where he could penetrate the helpless young Trojan and steal the last trace of his dignity. "Master. Say it or else, slave. I would hate to think what would happen to you if you don't."

Ryo's tongue quivered, the filthy word lying upon it, ready to be born from his mouth. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw several men enter the room through an adjoining corridor on the left, dressed for travel and wearing heavy cloaks and military tunics. Ryo recognised some and his heart jumped: there was Thanos, the captain. And Yannis, the majour. And even young Illyas, the new lieutenant. Ryo held his breath, eyes fixed on the corridor. _Save me. Save me. Where are you…_

And at that moment, it was like a bright light filled the room and a will to live rushed through Ryo's veins-- General Morinum was busy talking to one of his other officers, his auburn eyebrows knitted in seriousness, his shaggy bangs falling across his forehead and giving him a busy, unkempt look. He was absolutely beautiful, that gleam of the metal trim on his tunic, each sinewy, lean muscle, the power carried in each step, the silent fury and awesome might in each movement of his arms, all of that held one word and one meaning to Ryo, and he shrieked it out at the top of his bursting lungs:

"MAAASTEERRRRRRR!"

Morinum's head snapped to attention, his body stiff and his eyes searching the crowd. The noise fell a few decibels but didn't die completely down. Daeus chuckled. "Finally, you admit to your-" He stopped when he saw where and to whom Ryo was gazing, and the grip of all four men went dead limp, their eyes and mouths open in horror. "Oh… gods."

"Master!" Ryo cried again, tears coursing down his cheeks.

Morinum's eyes found Ryo, found the four beasts having their time with him, forcing themselves on his personal slave, his property, and his fists clenched so tightly they drained of blood and his teeth gritted until they ached. His eyes filled with flames of hatred unseen by mortals, and the four warriors blanched pale.

Ryo swallowed his sobs and whispered, "Cye." And with that, he launched himself out of their tangle of flesh, away from their sickening clutches and bolted to the Spartan, who caught Ryo in his arms and pulled him possessively to his chest. Ryo panted with terror, heart pounding, cheek resting against Morinum's chest where he felt the general's heart throbbing as violently as his own. He gripped the heavy tunic in his fists and pushed himself closer to Morinum.

The tall brunette held his slave tightly, sending a venomous gaze in the direction of the men before letting his eyes fall to the Roman held to his chest, the ebony locks spilling down his shoulders. "Did they rape you?" he asked in a strangely detached voice.

"N-no, master…" Ryo murmured. "But they tried."

Morinum's arms tightened around the young slave. "Did they." He nodded to one of his officers and ordered him to find an attendant to show Ryo out of the andron; the Roman fairly had to be pried off of Morinum before being led away. Ryo was too light-headed to think of anything besides finding a rock to station himself on, a rock named Morinum, preferably.

As he and the attendant walked down one of the open corridors and the noise of the den of iniquity died down, Ryo heard a familiar voice: "Gods! Are you alright?" And he turned to see Dathae running toward him breathlessly, hair and chiton flying. Ryo felt like bursting into tears upon seeing him, but he hadn't any tears left to cry.

The two ran towards and crashed into each other, embracing tightly as Sage's hand reflexively stroked through Ryo's hair, and the Roman began to babble crazily, his fallen plans and conflicting feelings coming out of his mouth in the form of broken sentences and barely discernable words. Sage simply cooed soft, soothing words to him and pressed the occasional kiss to Ryo's feverish temple.

"There, there… calm down. It's all over now, Ryo."

"You saw it? You saw what they were doing to me?"

"Yes, and I tried to stop it. I can't. I'm just a slave; I have to obey my master." The blond sighed. "I tried to save you, Ryo… but it seems you were saved nonetheless by the man you least expected."

"Speak nothing of that," Ryo uttered. "I am ashamed."

"Ashamed that you had the general to come and save you? Ashamed of his protection of you? Ashamed that he would never allow anything to happen to you that he himself would not do?"

There was no reply. Sage sighed heavily and murmured, "The general may be a beast, Ryo… but he is the king of beasts, and protects his territory from anyone who dares to trifle with it. You have the protection of the most feared general in Greece and Rome combined, and that makes you the safest person in this kingdom right now."

"I also have no freedom," Ryo replied lowly, pulling back to gazed at Dathae's face.

"Which would you rather have, freedom in the very country that hates you or protection in the form of a powerful general?"

"You know my answer, regardless of facts."

"I do, but is that your heart speaking, or your head?"

Ryo scowled. "I don't doubt my heart or my mind. I know what I am feeling, Sage, and just because that monster saved me from all the little monsters, it doesn't make him my hero or lover. I still hate him with all my might."

Dathae smiled sadly. "Ironic. How alike you are."

"What?" Ryo demanded.

The blond shrugged. "Morinum cannot stop hating the Trojans and you cannot stop hating Morinum. Your hatred is the one thing you have in common, and it is also the only thing in this world that is undying… aside from love." He grinned.

"I don't feel like being philosophical with your clever antics tonight," Ryo snapped weakly, swaying on his feet. "I want only to sleep. I'm… exhausted."

"Don't think so hard then."

"Shut up, Sage."

Dathae smiled as he began to lead Ryo away, then they turned a corner and Sage immediately ducked behind the side, pulling Ryo with him and motioning for him to be silent. "What is it?" the Roman whispered, blue eyes large and filled with worry.

The blond nodded to the adjacent hall. "Those men are there. And Morinum, too."

"_Morinum_?"

"Shh."

The two, being well practised in the fine art of eavesdropping, slid down the wall and into a crouch, peering around the corner cautiously. The general was glaring at Colonel Daeus, the other three men beside him looking for all the world like anxious animals, up against the wall. The two spies could see Morinum's face, and it was indeed terrifying.

"-and what business did you have with my slave, Colonel?" the Spartan was saying, almost in a snarl.

Daeus gulped. "He came to deliver a message to me. We did not know he was yours, Morinum. Otherwise we would have-"

"You would have _what_? Molested another lad? Men of your ilk disgust me, horrible bunch of lecherous dogs like you, always hunting down easy prey."

"From what I understand, General," Anubis said. "That lad was your own personal slave. Do you not partake of him like we ourselves did… or tried?"

Morinum eyes flashed daggers at the Egyptian. "Firstly, I was not addressing you and secondly, the thing that separates me from you four marauders of flesh is that I am satisfied with one while _you_ consistently try to engage yourselves with as many young men as you can find."

"But do you not rape your captives, General?" Cael inquired. "How does that differentiate you from us?

Sage and Ryo saw Morinum's fist clench tightly. "It differentiates me because it is a right that I earned. I defeat them, I own them, and they are mine. You do not own every slave you come across or hold the right to take him. To think so is arrogant and extremely stupid of you. My slave is _my_ property, and people who trespass on my property are punished."

He drew his sword quickly and the men took a step back. Morinum growled savagely, "Hold your ground, you sniveling cravens. I would not spill your vile blood on such a worthy floor." He held the flat of the blade to the side of Daeus' face and said lowly, "One day you will ravage the wrong property, and perhaps the owner will not be as merciful as I am." And with those words, he lifted the blade and neatly sliced off the colonel's ear.

The severed ear fell to the floor and the men stepped away in horror. Daeus hissed and clapped a hand to the side of his head as blood began to seep from between his fingers. He clenched his teeth and trembled, fighting to stifle his shrieks of pain. Sekhmet cried, "But-! You said you wouldn't-"

"I lied." Morinum's voice was filled with dark malice, dripping poison.

From around the corner, Dathae put a hand over his mouth and turned his head, muttering, "Gods oh gods oh gods," repeatedly. Ryo stared in shock. That blade… that hilt… he recognised it. It was Roman, he could tell from the detail on the handle that it- he stopped when he realised that the sword that Morinum held was none other than Ryo's own Trojan sword, the one made for him back when his city was still standing. The general had kept it this long, these five years? Why?

Morinum sheathed the blade calmly and said, "Let that be a reminder to you thoughtless idiots what happens when you do not listen to common law."

"And what law is this?" Cael demanded.

The Spartan grinned slyly. "Do not take what is not yours. That is stealing. Count yourselves lucky, gentlemen. Where I come from, you would have been gutted alive for such a crime."

The four men shuffled around nervously like anxious horses, eager to get away from this barbaric animal of a man. Morinum saw their fear and lowered his eyebrows. "Get out of my sight," he uttered, and the soldiers scampered away quickly.

Ryo looked down at Dathae, hands over his eyes, who asked, "Is it over yet? Are they gone? Did Morinum pick up the ear and eat it?"

The Roman smiled at his friend. "No, he didn't. But he taught those men a lesson they'll not soon forget. You can open your eyes now."

Dathae did so, looking even more ill than when he was at the banquet. "Gods, he _does_ like to make his point clear, doesn't he?"

"He does," Ryo murmured.

"He must care a great deal about his property."

The raven-haired young man stared at his friend coldly. "As property is expendable, so am I. To him, I am nothing but a plot of land."

"Perhaps." Dathae leaned close to Ryo and whispered, "But a plot of land that is beautiful, revered and wanted by many, a plot of land that he protects fiercely and is jealous of, a plot of land that no man but he must rule. He doesn't appear to common people as someone capable of deep love, but I promise you, he does. You just have to know where to find it. The line between love and hate is thin; both are passionate, enthralling, and performed with the whole of one's heart and soul. I don't believe Morinum hates you, rather, he loves you deeply and doesn't know how to express it other than what he's been taught: pain, fear and treachery."

Ryo scowled. "If he loved me, he would set me free and stop killing my people."

"He is unsure of how to handle emotions like love. He has never been shown love in his life, Ryo, only suffering, misery and despair. You must be patient with him."

"I've waited five years," came the sharp reply. "I will not wait any longer."

"And how do you plan to go about this?" the blond retorted sassily.

"Seduce him."

"Ha! And you think _I'm_ mad for suggesting you love him? If you seduce him falsely, Ryo, you'll hurt him more than you'll ever know. His woe will surpass yours. Imagine a hideous beast that is both feared and hated, imagine that beast being shown true kindness and love, led into a trap and killed by the one whom he thought loved him for the first time in his life. Have you any idea the feeling going through that beast's heart when he feels the blade of the one whom he thought loved him pierce his breast? Can you even _begin_ to imagine how capable you are of returning your years of misery twofold upon the man who protected you and would have loved you had he been given the chance? Can you, Ryo?"

"You hate him as well, Dathae!" the Roman snapped. "He is your sworn enemy! Why do you take his side on this matter?"

"He may be my enemy, Ryo, but at least I'm not merciless."

Ryo looked stunned and insulted by the remark. "Are you saying that I am merciless?"

The Athenian nodded slowly. "Perhaps even more so than Morinum."

"Don't you _dare_ blame me for that, Dathae. I had faith and love and a sense of righteousness… I had a heart once."

"So did Morinum." A long silence followed those words, and several expressions of helpless frustration made their way across Ryo's face. "You and Morinum are more alike than you are willing to admit," Sage finished.

"Who do you think would be willing to admit to something like _that_?" Ryo murmured softly, feigning interest in the fabric of his mantle. "You have no idea how it is to be sitting here, a poor imprisoned wretch, being told how similar you are to the very man who is slowly killing you."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Ryo. I tried that for years and it only made things worse."

"Shut up!" cried the dark haired youth in desperation. "I'm tired of listening to your superiour attitude--don't tell me what I am or what I'm feeling!"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be! Just… I don't need this right now! Leave me alone!" Ryo stood to his feet and stormed clumsily away, disappearing down the hall. Behind him, Dathae sighed very heavily and crawled to his feet, shaking his head sadly. It was a heavy dose of truth for Ryo to swallow, but Dathae knew it had to be done sooner or later. He had to help his friend find his heart again before he escaped and became a man as terrible as the man who taught him to hate, thinking of nothing but destruction and vengeance.

Yes, Ryo was not willing to admit that he had learned many things from his Spartan master, and not all of them virtuous and good. He was also not willing to admit that Dathae had been exactly right about everything he had told Ryo. The Athenian hoped that his comrade would see past those vices, otherwise there would be no hope for him. Ryo had become so blinded by his loathing of Morinum that it had become all he thought about and was slowly eating away at the little good left in him. Just like his master's own hatred for the Trojans.

_ Gods, what a pair of piteous wretches they will make,_ Sage thought as he slowly returned to the banquet. _Misery loves company._

_

* * *

_

**[1]** _symposium (Gr.)_: a drinking party with an exclusively male attendance.

**[2]** _kline (Gr.)_: a narrow sort of couch without a back, more like a chaise.


	11. Chapter XI Virtues

**Chapter XI: Virtues**

Ryo's fast, heavy footsteps echoed down the empty hall towards Morinum's –and his- room. So many thoughts and so many emotions were going through Ryo at this time that he felt as if he were being pulled to pieces in all different directions. He was furious at Dathae, humiliated by his helplessness, despaired by the truth, sorry for himself, grateful for the general's rescue of him and horrified by this reaction at the same time. Hate, love, deception, trust, what had become of it all? It was nothing but a giant mass of black and white, melting together and becoming grey, unable to be defined by certain things anymore. The more Ryo tried to fight it, the more entangled in the grey he became, the more it swallowed him whole.

"GODS!" he screamed as loud as he could, doubling over and wrapping his arms around himself tightly, closing his eyes and letting his soul mourn freely. "GODDDDDS! GODDDDDDDS!" He screamed it again and again until his throat was hoarse, trying to grab their attention or somehow direct their heavenly gaze towards his misery. Perhaps they didn't hear him. Perhaps they had shut him out, given up on him. Ryo, for once, couldn't blame them. He should have given up on asking for their help long ago.

"I'm a fool," he choked, blinking rapidly, his eyes stinging sharply as he tried to force the tears of relief out to no avail. After so many years of weeping, he had finally cried his eyes dry.

Ryo staggered, bent double, against the wall and somehow made it to his door after tripping twice and heaving dry sobs; he pushed the doors open and toppled inside, letting them shut by themselves as he dragged himself like a wounded man onto the bed and wept invisible tears, hating himself, pitying himself, all the feelings that had once been directed at Morinum that he now pointed to himself. Like a single hair that turned about and began growing into the skin again, so was Ryo's malice.

He didn't want to think, didn't want to breathe. He wanted to close his eyes and make this hell disappear forever without mention again. He emptied his mind, held his breath and shut his eyes tightly, becoming blind and mute to the world. And in doing this, he slowly drifted off into that shallow place between wake and sleep, becoming gradually numb in his mind to his surroundings and the sound of the frogs singing in the garden somewhere. In the fuzzy corner of Ryo's consciousness, he listened to the calls and was comforted, yet… and yet there was something troubling Ryo's mind, something that he was aware of but too exhausted to think about. He knew it was important but he could not seem to remember.

An indefinite amount of blank time passed, and the young Roman slowly roused himself from his sleep. What had woken him up? He looked to the window and he could see the lush purple night sky, littered with stars and the dark silhouettes of the trees and bushes in the garden. The landscape suddenly seemed very strange, and Ryo stood to his feet wearily and walked toward the open air. And suddenly, as if from the night itself, a large tiger sprang through the window and landed on the floor before the startled young man.

Ryo jerked awake, his eyes springing open and he sat up in bed, looking around the room with a pounding heart. No tiger. It was still nighttime. Stars, shadows and everything beyond the open window. Nothing had changed. A dream? It must have been. He shook his head. How long had he been asleep? No matter--he still felt exhausted so he lay back down upon the bed, rolling over onto his side and shutting his eyes.

Ryo listened to the chirping amphibians out in the gardens and drifted in and out of awareness. That strange feeling began to come over him again, like a concept or idea that he was desperately trying to grasp, a shred of knowledge he was attempting to comprehend. It almost hurt to think in the dreamy, conscious realm that he was in. So slow… each thought took so much time to process… and then it suddenly hit him like Jupiter's own great hand. The Roman's eyes opened wide and thereupon aged twenty-five years.

As a boy, Ryo would play with the other children down near the lake close to his home, and he remembered mimicking the calls of the frogs as they sang, often attempting to catch a few of the creatures and even less often succeeding. Soon they had become known as the Tadpole Troop for running around and wheedling like a band of young frogs all day long. At night Ryo would lay in bed and fall asleep to the lullabies, occasionally chirping back to them before he drifted off. Happy memories of happy times. Ryo felt so homesick he could be nauseous.

_ Home. Lake. Frogs. Summer. Friends. Chirp. Mimic. Call, call, call of the frogs- _

Ryo bolted up from the bed and sat upright, gasping as if he had just run a mile without stopping. The call! He and the other boys used to signal each other with the chirp of the frogs, and there was no fountain on this side of the garden-

Ryo flew to his feet and disregarding his dream, clambered to the open window and paused to listen. Nothing but the sound of the wind in the trees. He kept his ears alert, eyes darting back and forth into the night, scanning the shadow-shrouded garden. Then, he heard the call. Distinctly. One. Ryo licked his lips, pursed them and chirped softly in return. Then he held his breath and waited.

There was a reply, and not only was it closer but it moved from a higher pitch and down again. Ryo felt dizzy as he called out into the night several times, exposing his position. Then, the calls abruptly stopped. Ryo held his breath. Maybe he was delirious and imagining things. Maybe he was simply exhausted from this emotional turmoil and was beginning to hear wishful sounds of home. Or maybe he was about to die and this was the final flare of his life before his eyes.

As soon as the thought had entered Ryo's mind, a dark, shadowy something burst from the low shrubs in front of the window like a silent maelstrom and grabbed Ryo in a crushing grip. He opened his mouth to scream his last words but a cloaked hand clapped over his face, silencing him. Panic roared through Ryo's body like a blazing fire and he closed his eyes, prepared to die years ago, assured that whatever or whomever it was meant to kill him, but an urgent whisper met his ears: "Ryo! Ryo, it's me!"

Blue eyes opened quickly and a shadowy face behind a hooded cloak came into the light. Ryo thought he must have died and gone to some otherworldly realm, for this could not be happening right now. His eyes had to be fooling him for there, before him, weary and worn but nevertheless alive, was Khristos Faunus, Ryo's own Trojan brethren.

"Khris-!" He threw his arms around his friend and embraced him so tightly that Faunus was certain his bones would break. Wordless thoughts of relief and comfort swept through Ryo's tortured mind like a soothing river, and the broken sentences he mumbled is amazement came swiftly and softly. "This can't be real. You can't be here. I've really gone mad this time," Ryo muttered rationally.

Khristos pried his comrade off of his body and looked him in the eyes, straight, strong and unblinking. Ryo knew then, knew by those eyes that he recognised and had known for thousands of days in his past, that what was happening was real. His mind struggled to process the reality of the situation. For so many nights he had dreamt of being saved and now, in the moment when he assuredly had lost all hope, the gods sent him a saviour.

"How… how did you…"

Faunus held Ryo by the elbows, mainly to keep his friend from collapsing or from suffocating him in another smothering embrace, but mainly to reassure himself that this insecure, clinging, frightened young man was indeed the strong and proud general that he once had known. "Ryo…" Faunus murmured, staring at his brotherly friend. "Ryo, you've changed."

The young man who had been tortured for so long broke down and wept dryly. "I know, Khris. I know. Thank the gods. I thought I'd never… how did you find me?"

Faunus looked about himself anxiously, prepared to hide at the first sign of a guard. When he was certain he was not being spied upon, he leaned close to Ryo and whispered, "The day I saw you tied and taken away was a day my heart will never forget. I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have called the troops back. We could have fought and gotten you back and you wouldn't be-"

"That was nearly six years ago, Khristos. You did the right thing. We were far outmatched. Our men would have died had you not called them back. Don't be ashamed of good judgment."

Faunus nodded sadly. "It still didn't rectify that horrible feeling of betrayal I felt for abandoning you in your time of need. You looked after all of us, Ryo. You were my brother. Our people loved you and they mourned your defeat. They thought you were dead."

"Did _you_?" Ryo asked.

"If I did, I would not be here now. I dreamt that you were alive, Ryo. I dreamt it for so many nights that I knew you had to be alive and in the hands of our enemies. Mia didn't want me to leave, but I told her that I must-"

_ "_Mia?" Ryo quivered, recalling the lovely face of the young woman he had known.

Faunus nodded hesitantly. "We're married," he said softly. "Our daughter will be walking on her own soon."

"Khristos!" Ryo hissed angrily, almost shaking in fury for his friend's foolish action. "How _could_ you? How could you leave your wife and child to pursue me!?"

"I knew that you were alive! I couldn't bear the thought of my brother suffering!"

"But leaving your family-!"

"I had to reach you; I had to bring you back, Ryo," the dark haired Trojan insisted. "Our armies are prepared to resist the Greeks. All we need is a general to lead them."

"You're asking the wrong man. I'm no general," Ryo said bitterly. "I was defeated, shamed and scorned. I am not fit to lead an army of rats."

"But you are the only general to live under the very thumb of the man who defeated you. Can you imagine the glorious sight you would be to the Trojans, to see their once-dead general rise from the clutches of his very own hell and go forth to lead them to victory?"

"You don't understand, Khris! You don't know what's been going on here for the past five years! You know nothing!"

"I understand enough to know that this place has worn you down," he said solemnly. "You seem so different now. Your demeanor…" He smiled. "Your hair. It's so long. You look like you haven't aged a day."

"Time passes swiftly in hell," Ryo mumbled.

"But something else has broken you… hasn't it? What happened to the proud general I once knew?"

The young, defeated general looked up with shame written across every feature of his face. "The general whom defeated me –General Morinum- has been keeping me as his slave. As…" He gulped. "…as his concubine. I am a trophy that he rapes and ravages constantly. I… I cannot lead the rebels, Khristos. I have become spoils of war."

A heartbroken expression mixed with frustration and rage seized Faunus, and he pulled Ryo close to his chest. "I'll make him pay, Ryo, I swear it. All those who have tortured you… we shall return one day and burn this place to the ground, just as our home was destroyed."

"You can't! There are good people here!"

Faunus pulled away and stared at his friend, perplexed. "_Greeks_? _Good_ people?"

Ryo nodded. "Some are slaves like me. I would not wish for anyone, not even my enemies, to experience the losses we have experienced. My mother and father… your father… I don't want to make any more orphans, Khris. There are enough of those in this world as it is."

Faunus was silent, then he smiled sadly. "Ryo Sanadus, the general with a heart of gold."

"How did you find me, Khristos?"

The Roman frowned and scanned the garden again before speaking. "That is another matter, much graver than any news I bring. I boarded a ship from Troy to Lesbos, then to Chios."

"A boat! But I thought you were afraid of water!"

"I am," Faunus said with a wink. "Any fear can be overcome when the price is heavy enough." He continued: "Once at Chios, I disguised myself as a blind foreigner and took another ship to Delos, and another until I found myself in the Greek city of Troezen. I knew that the army that defeated you had been a joint power of three cities, one of them being Rowenia. I recall the flags on the battlefield. So, still in the guise of a blind man, I travelled with a band of merchants from Troezen to Firyns, where they and I boarded a ship to Argos and travelled by land to Mycenae. And that is where I saw General Morinum, this day."

"What?" Ryo exclaimed. "You saw him?"

"Yes, as I was wandering about the streets looking for merchants en route to Rowenia, I saw military men upon horses whose saddles bore the mark of the Rowenian flag. Naturally, I followed them until they reached the palace of Mycenae and then I snuck around to the side garden and tried to listen in on what they were discussing." Faunus' face became pale. "And Ryo, the matters spoken of in that palace would guarantee death to anyone who knew. Our people, _all_ people, are in danger."

Ryo frowned, puzzled. "I don't understand. Is Morinum planning another attack on the Trojans? I could have told you _that_."

"No, my friend. I wish it were that simple." Faunus leaned close. "That general, this Morinum, has formed a secret allegiance with Sparta and other Greek cities. He is planning to overthrow the king of Rowenia very soon."

Ryo felt something fall away from him with those words, and was struck with horror. Morinum could destroy this kingdom. He could do it right now, on his own. If he was seeking assistance in this act, he must be planning to completely annilhilate Rowenia. Gods, the idea alone of the general at the seat of power filled Ryo with dread. And yet somehow, he felt as if he had known this was predestined; Morinum hated everyone in Rowenia, especially the king himself. He had the strength and the force to overthrow him any second he decided.

After Ryo had managed to swallow down this piece of news, he inquired hoarsely, "But how did you find me, Khris?"

"I followed the soldiers back to Rowenia this afternoon and managed to sneak in through the palace gates. I was forced to maul a servant and steal his clothes so that I could blend in, and I'll admit that it took me quite a while to find you. Ryo, you must come with me now. I know a way out and we must act quickly, for who knows how long that window of opportunity will be… Ryo?"

The longhaired young man looked physically stunned. "_Now_?"

"Yes, now!" Faunus said hurriedly. "Come! We-"

"B-but I can't," Ryo stammered numbly. "I… I can't just _leave_."

His Trojan friend looked shocked. "What? _What!_ Ryo, if you don't leave now you could be-"

"I know!"

"Well then, make haste! Let's go!" He took Ryo by the arm firmly, quite ready to drag the lad through the window if he were forced to.

"Khristos, I cannot! I-I haven't…" Ryo pulled his arm free and let the reality sink in. "I have to say goodbye to my friends first."

"Say _goodbye_? Ryo, for the gods' sake, listen to yourself! I don't wish to know whom of our enemies you befriended in this place but even in the least, you can send them your regards when you're home in Troy! Act first, think later!"

"Khristos." Large blue eyes stared deeply into Faunus' own. "I cannot leave right now. I need time. A… a night to think. I must warn the king before I leave. I-I know people who would be willing to help me, powerful people who would be able to arrange an easier way out. You know as well as I that the odds of two people escaping from the palace are next to none. Let me think of something. Please."

Faunus frowned, rubbing his forehead as if it hurt to dwell upon his friend's perplexing behaviour. "Very well," he said gravely. "I will come for you tomorrow evening, and I am ready to slay anyone and everyone in this palace, so by the gods, you are going to leave with me if I have to beat you until you're at Death's threshold. Is that understood?"

Ryo leaned forward and embraced his friend securely. "Would that your words be as soft as the meaning behind them." He closed his eyes. "Thank you for not giving up on me, Khristos. I can never repay you, not in a thousand lifetimes."

Faunus smiled momentarily over Ryo's shoulder, then loosed himself from his friend's arms and ducked out of sight. "Someone approaches," he breathed. "I leave you, my brother." And he was gone, disappeared into shadows of the night with little more than a rustling of leaves. His presence was so vague that Ryo had trouble believing that it had actually occurred, but the warmth he still felt on his clothes assured him that his mind was not playing tricks on him.

And certainly enough, Ryo heard the doors to the chamber open and he turned sharply. General Morinum, still dressed from his journey, looked from the floor to Ryo's eyes in a single smooth motion of lifting his head. Imposing a presence of both fear, awe and respect, the young general stepped inside and softly closed the doors behind him, breaking his gaze with his slave and letting his eyes drift to the marble once more. _The banquet must have ended by now,_ Ryo thought and tensed in fear, knowing how close to danger he was. A slip of the tongue would kill him for certain and he didn't want to die now, not when he was on the brink of imminent rescue. He didn't trust his own tongue anymore; Ryo kept his jaw clenched tightly as if that would be any insurance, swallowing down his secrets and knowledge of those evil plans, and watched Morinum stand at the doors, unmoving.

It took a few seconds for Ryo to remember that standing before him was the man who unwittingly saved his life, for Ryo would have surely killed himself had not Morinum emerged at the banquet and instilled the fear of the gods into Colonel Daeus and his foul men. It wasn't solely his life, but the remnants of his dignity that Morinum had rescued, and it made Ryo see the jaded Spartan in another light. Or perhaps he knew that it was to be his last night in this hellish place that would soon be reduced to Hell itself forever, and that he would be going home soon.

One part of the Roman wanted to scream and rejoice and dance like a gleeful child… and yet one part, a small, reluctant and very well-concealed part of Ryo knew that he was passing out from under the wing of protection and into the land of his enemies. Perhaps Dathae was right. Perhaps he had always been right.

_"If you seduce him falsely, Ryo, you'll hurt him more than you'll ever know. His woe will surpass yours,"_ Dathae had told him.

_ Good_, Ryo thought vengefully. _Morinum _needs_ to feel the real meaning of woe. All the losses that I suffered, my home, my family, my title, my life… he will feel that. _

_"Can you even begin to imagine how capable you are of returning your years of misery twofold upon the man who protected you and would have loved you had he been given the chance? Can you, Ryo?"_

_Yes, I can. And I _will_. I've got nothing to lose now. I'll be gone by the day after and on my way home. I've got no pity in my heart for this bastard of a man. Let him feel my torment and pain. I do not care if he's miserable. Did he ever care for _me_?_

Ryo thought deeply. Care? Not Morinum. He kept him fed and that was all. Clothed… he gave Ryo a nice room for a few years, better than any of the slave quarters, freedom to roam the palace with Dathae before he went behind the general's back and slept with the Athenian. He was punished for that. Just like rules pertaining to any other city in any other place. Was Morinum truly unjust, or was that simply the way Ryo viewed him since he was his slave? Ryo was never forced to toil by hard labour, never whipped or beaten, not counting his first day in Rowenia. No… the only thing he was forced to give was his body, but that was his most precious gift. Morinum stole it from him constantly. Is that not punishable by law? But how does one steal something that they already own?

More conflicting feelings arose in Ryo's heart. He was thankful and yet adamant. He wanted to say it but was reluctant. As he watched Morinum walk over and sit down on the side of the bed with his back to him, Ryo felt truly at an emotional loss. He felt so much that he had finally gone blank. There was nothing left to feel. Nothing but a single urge that drew Ryo to the side of the bed like a gentle whisper, where he crawled onto the mattress and settled behind Morinum, gazing at the windswept auburn locks.

_ His hair is such a nice colour_, he thought. _Like a mixture of red spices, a fragrant tree's wood or the fine, or rich soil of the gardens. But it looks so soft… _

Gingerly, as if he were skimming the edge of a knife, Ryo reached up and gently touched an unruly tendril, thumbing over it with appreciation. It was softer than Ryo imagined. Was this… was this the first time he had ever touched it? Perhaps it was.

"What do you think you're doing?" Morinum's harsh, slightly-annoyed voice cut the serenity of the moment like a sharp rock, and Ryo snatched his hand away even though the general made no move to strike him. He didn't even turn his head.

"I… nothing, Master." Pause. "You look weary. Your journey must have been tiring."

"I am never weary," came the retort.

_Nothing to lose,_ Ryo reminded himself as he leaned close and carefully began to untie the leather laces of his master's thin cuirass **[1]**. Morinum did not move; he sat still and allowed his slave to loosen the traces until the metal shell came free, falling away from the short, pale blue military chiton that was underneath. Ryo crawled to his knees and lifted the metal casing over Morinum's head, standing to his feet returning the breastplate to its mounts in one corner of the room. Then he strode back to the bed, chiton skirt flowing elegantly behind him, and knelt down before Morinum, undoing the straps of his greaves **[2]** in dutiful silence and putting them with the armour. Ryo made his way back to the bed without uttering a word and settled comfortably down, laying and gazing up at the ceiling benignly.

Morinum turned his head enough just so he could catch a glimpse of his slave out of the corner of his eye, and said, "You had no business being there."

Ryo wove his fingers together across his waist and breathed, "Someone ordered me to deliver a message to the colonel. I was simply doing what I was told."

"Don't be snide with me," the Spartan glowered. "You were lucky this time." He gazed upon Ryo's extremely flattering attire as if noticing it for the first time. "You dressed for the occasion, I see. Sneaky little-"

"I dressed for my master," the Trojan said, always in a submissive, quiet tone.

The young general paused momentarily. "A fine excuse," he muttered at last. "Serves you right, what they did to you."

"You should have seen me before those soldiers disheveled me. I was on my way to await your return. Would it have pleased you?"

Morinum fully stared at his slave with piercing, green eyes. "Have you gone mad, Sanadus?"

"I've always been mad."

Squinting in scrutiny, the auburn haired man regarded Ryo with a strange look upon his features. "You are different tonight. Like you know something treacherous."

Ryo's heart leapt into his throat. "I… no, Master. I would never…" He looked up at Morinum and his confidence hardened. "…I'm always being treacherous. I'm a Roman."

And what happened next scared Ryo more than if the general were to start beating him blind: Morinum laughed. He really laughed. It was a quiet laugh of course, but still out loud. And he was smiling. His eyes sparkled for a brief moment. His face was lighter, his cheeks rosier, and he suddenly seemed very handsome and desirable.

Ryo sat up in alarm and Morinum's face returned to its stone exterior. "You can laugh?"

"Don't mock me, you naïve little twit," came the acidic response.

Ryo lowered his head obediently with an airy, "I won't again, Master." Then he felt a hand under his chin, forcing it up to meet Morinum's face, which gazed into the deep blue eyes of the Roman lad for a long while. Ryo willed himself to remain still, his eyes locked to Morinum's, sky blue to sea green. Thin, delicate auburn eyebrows arched slightly as the general went over his slave's face, absorbing the detail while Ryo absorbed his master's.

"You wear pigment on your lips," Morinum murmured. "Why?"

"To please my master," a whisper came from between the dark velvet fleshes.

He turned Ryo's head in his hand. "Your hair is different also."

"To please you also."

Morinum released the face he held with something of bitter resentment. "Why all this focus on gratifying me, Sanadus?"

"Why not, Master? Isn't that my purpose?"

This took the general by surprise, his eyes blinking rapidly. "You've not ever presented yourself to me in this fashion. Why suddenly like this?"

"I might as well get used to being your trophy of lust _sometime_, shouldn't I?" Ryo could not conceal the animosity in his tone, which the general picked up on easily. "Will your mouth ever cease to scorn me?" he growled. "If I knew for certain it were to follow me unto death I would throw down my blade and pick up a plow."

"Would you really, Master?" asked Ryo.

"I don't know, you prattling idiot," he said in a tired tone. "It was just an expression. You annoy me with your idiocy." Morinum sighed forcefully and let himself fall back onto the mattress; he closed his eyes and sighed again, appearing to any observer as an exhausted young man, not a fearsome, merciless general.

"Are you angry with me?" Ryo murmured, wanting to keep Morinum awake for as long as possible.

"Not yet."

There was a brief silence between them, filled only by the chirping crickets outside the window and the faint whisper of wind in the trees. "I am grateful to you," the Roman forced out softly. "For stopping those men."

"Tch." Morinum grunted dubiously. "I wager it. You probably liked it, being as much a whore as your Athenian friend."

"I assure you, Master, I took no pleasure in it." At least Ryo could say _that_ with all sincerity. Morinum opened one eye lazily and looked to his slave with a malignant sneer. "Why not? It's no different from what I do to you."

"But it is. I didn't notice until they were touching me… it wasn't like _your_ touches, _your_ hands…" Ryo let his tone fall to a dark murmur, pretending to appear truly impacted by that brief molestation he spoke of. Morinum sat up slowly, looking rather alert now. "They were clumsy," Ryo continued. "And stupid. Ignorant, blundering soldiers who earned their experience on children and prostitutes. They were graceless, the lot of them. Not like the master whose skilled hands I've grown familiar to."

"Think you're a seasoned slave now, Sanadus? Will my hands not make you weep tears of shame the next time I take you?"

"I don't know if they can, Master. I've cried my tears to death--there are no more left-"

"We'll see. I believe I can squeeze them out of you if I push hard enough."

Ryo felt his face grow hot. "I doubt that shedding my tears will be a simple task-"

"Then show me how," Morinum stated, and the young Roman looked up in alarmed confusion.

"What?"

"Show me what they did to you. I want to know how they touched you."

_ So that you can reassure your position over them,_ Ryo realised. _So that you can know how much better you are than them, to finish what they started…_ He blushed and blinked rapidly. "We… you've not used me in nearly three weeks," he breathed.

"Then you'll be _something_ like virgin, won't you?" Morinum inquired lewdly, smirking at his words.

As much as the comment stirred up the coals of anger in Ryo's heart, he cooled them down with reason and told himself that this would all be for the better. It wouldn't matter so much tomorrow night; he would be gone from this hell beast and never have to look upon him again. Might as well give his "master" what he wanted one last time. _And _this_ time,_ Ryo thought wickedly, _I will give him more than what he asked for. And when he finds me gone the day after… his misery will be my sweetest victory. _

The raven-haired young man crawled across the bed and settled into Morinum's lap, straddling the general's legs and trying to convince himself that he would have to play this part like he really meant it. Ryo took the hands that had shed the blood of his brethren, his home, his people, and place them upon his bare thighs. "They started here," he said lowly, looking anywhere but Morinum's face. "They were too impulsive with their lust. They did not take the time to appreciate the flesh they were groping."

Ryo guided the general's submissive hands slowly up his warm thighs, smooth, yielding flesh that became rosy from the caresses, supple as sun-ripened fruit. "They placed their lips upon my neck, my shoulders…" Ryo leaned close to Morinum, taking in the familiar scent of his body and breathing it out in heavy, moist whispers along the brunette's neck. Ryo heard the general's breath quicken slightly, and knew that this seductive treason was working.

"And their hands were all over my body, always moving…" He led the hands up his own hips, allowing them to move of their own accord across the breadth of them. Ryo felt the first tingle of desire flow into his loins and he gulped, summoning his endurance. "I felt so unfaithful to you…"

"It wasn't-" Morinum started awkwardly. "-your fault that they…"

_ Ah, the power of lust. We'll see who's in charge now, won't we?_ "Perhaps," Ryo purred. "But… their hands were under my clothes, making me feel things that betrayed my body to you." He led the Spartan's slender palms along his firm abdomen, beneath the warmth of the Roman's chiton, and back around to trace the warm, rounded flesh of his rear. Morinum, eager to dive into this lustful creature, slipped his hand into Ryo's hot cleft and sought out his spot of pleasure.

"Ah ah ah," the dark haired young man chided gently in a lush voice. "They did not venture there just yet. They went-" He guided one of Morinum's hands between his legs and heard the general exhale heavily. "-_here_ first. And the other went here…" Ryo took the other hand and led it up under his clothes, pressing it to his beating breast. His loosened chiton unfolded slightly and fell off one tanned, muscular shoulder, barely draped over his nude body now.

Only at this time did Ryo dare to look up into Morinum's face, and his voice caught in his throat. Face flushed, lips parted, the general was suddenly the most handsome man Ryo had ever seen. The Spartan's eyes had all but the scent of the sea, misty, watery, soft and shimmering. Cool, deep blue-green, bottomless and at once so full of life and mercy. They were the eyes of another, Ryo forced himself to believe. The eyes of Cye, the first person killed by Morinum. The Trojan's bitterness fell away and was replaced by pity and a longing to bring Cye to the surface again, resurrect the happiness and joy he saw hovering just beyond his reach. If only there was something within his power, if only he had the strength, the knowledge, the mercy to forgive the man who had all but killed him and bring his soul back from the pits of hell… and if only Ryo had wanted that just a little bit more than his freedom, he surely would have done it.

But he didn't.

Ryo exhaled in a trembling whisper and cupped Morinum's face in his hands, leaning close and surrendering his mouth to his enemy; Morinum's arms wrapped around his slave and Ryo nudged his hips forward, willing the ache between his legs to be touched and healed. Urgent hands slipped underneath Ryo's loose clothing, sending his chiton unraveling over the edge of the bed with a faint rustling. Morinum kissed back in his rough, clumsy way that the Roman was used to, hands clutching at flesh like a hungry man clutches stolen bread, desperate and tempted.

It was as sinful as any other occasion, as dark and vulgar and raw as any time before… and yet there was something different about it. Morinum sensed it through Ryo's skin, slowly ceasing what he was doing and pulling away slightly, as if momentarily regaining his senses. Many different shadows passed through the green eyes, thoughts and feelings and words battling each other for control. Ryo saw the war being waged in the depths of his master's eyes and knew that Morinum could at any second throw him to the floor and walk away. He couldn't let that happen, not now, not when he had a mission of misery to carry out and inflict upon his tormentor. And as long as the general was indulging in his slave, he wasn't going to be thinking about the possibilities of treachery being played upon himself.

Ryo quickly tossed off what little of his chiton actually remained on his body and wrapped his arms over Morinum's shoulders. "Master," he moaned softly, pressing himself against the brunette's chest. "Won't you remind me of my duty tonight?"

"And what duty is that?" Morinum muttered.

"Serving you. And hating it while I do."

The general grinned wolfishly, the battle receding from his eyes and focusing once more on his beautiful slave. "I see. Then perhaps I shall try to break some things tonight, starting with _you_, Sanadus."

"Some things break," Ryo replied in a sultry voice. "But others can only bend."

"Silence." Morinum put a hand on the back of Ryo's neck and pulled him to his lips, muting the sharp tongue with his own. The Roman pressed forward, urging the general onto his back and comfortably settling onto his prone body. It was a rather new position to Ryo--he'd always been on the bottom, pinned, tied, crushed, whatever the means used to keep him down. But now, unrestrained of bonds, free from the heavy weight of another body on top of him, he experienced a rush of exhilaration; he was in control now, in a small way. But it was better than nothing.

He felt Morinum's hands on the backs of his thighs, kneading them with rough appreciation and slowly spreading them apart. Ryo sat up partially and began to undo Morinum's chiton belt when the general stopped him with a firm, "No."

"I can't please you through cloth, master," Ryo insisted. "Imagine the things you would feel."

"That's precisely why I don't want it," the Spartan muttered.

"Why? Afraid you'll actually like it?" _You love to deny yourself of everything enjoyable, don't you? _

Morinum glared at Ryo venomously, hearing the challenge of authority in those words. "I knew I should have cut out that snide little tongue of yours," he growled regretfully, but allowed Ryo to return to undoing the belt. It slipped off and he caught what almost appeared to be a shy, self-conscious look on Morinum's face.

Feeling bolder, Ryo parted the folds of cloth away from the general's body and suddenly realised why he had looked so anxious; all along the lean, muscular torso were series of white scars varying in length and width. Ryo stared at them in slight shock. This was perhaps the first time in all the five years of his being there that he had truly seen Morinum's bare flesh in the light, for the general always wore some kind of clothing when they had intercourse. But why? Was he afraid of that Ryo would see this? Was Morinum even capable of being afraid?

There were larger, deeper scars on his side, even a few on his chest and abdomen. One ugly mark in particular went diagonally across the general's left breast, a jagged, painful-looking thing that looked as if it had been made by the claw of an unearthly devil-creature. Ryo couldn't imagine how much it hurt to receive a wound like that. Even his own weren't that serious… Ryo's hand absently traced the scars on his own body: the deep one on his side and the one on his upper thigh, both received upon his first day in Rowenia when he had battled Morinum for his freedom and lost.

_Scars… we are both scarred… is this why he did not want me to see? Is it because we were both abused once, both made fearful of something or someone and now share similarities of each other? A knave and a general who share common scars…_

And like an echo, Dathae's voice came back to Ryo: _"You and Morinum are more alike than you are willing to admit." _

Ryo's eyes somehow found Morinum's and they gazed at each other in silence. After a while, the Trojan asked in a timid whisper, "Who…" He barely touched the length of a scar on the Spartan's body. "Who did this…?"

"War," came the gruff, detached answer. "It's not a child's game. You came to Rowenia with not a scratch on your body, so I gave you some to remember me by."

The comment stung but Ryo ignored it. "Did it match the cruelty of these inflicted upon you?"

"It wasn't cruelty, you simple-minded oaf. It was discipline. They teach children to be men in Sparta, and none are spared the wrath of the whip or blade."

"Children?" Ryo murmured, astonished. "They discipline… whips and _blades_?"

"It's the warrior's life, Sanadus. It would have done you good to learn that before attempting to lead an army."

Another stinging insult directed at his pride, and he could not help but lash back: "I wonder what kind of man you would have been had you been raised in a city like Troy instead."

"Then I'd have never been a man," the general retorted.

"And most certainly not a heartless monster, either." The flippant remark earned Ryo a swift slap in the face, and he knew that he well deserved it. It wasn't a hard strike, but more like the strike of someone who knew that the truth was indeed in the words just spoken, a halfhearted blow that was done out of a stubborn mind trained to repay insolence –even honest insolence- with violence.

Ryo withdrew back into his recalcitrant, silent shell and said nothing, turning his face away and hiding his eyes underneath the shelter of thick ebony bangs. Whatever confidence he had gained from this encounter was shattered now. He wanted to be left alone but Morinum wasn't about to allow Ryo to forget what he had started.

"I really should clout you more often," Morinum said as he placed his hands firmly upon Ryo's hips and slid the dark haired young man off of him. "It certainly spares me the agony of your shrewing mouth." He sat up slightly and locked an arm about Ryo's waist, pulling his compliant quarry down to the mattress, rolling him over so that they both lay on their sides, chest to back.

Ryo lay passively stretched out and waited for the rough abuse to begin… but it didn't. At least, not in the way he expected; he felt a hand brush the long ebony tendrils from the side of his neck gently and a warm mouth descend upon it, pressing moist caresses into his flesh. A hand cupped the curve of his shoulder, squeezing it firmly and travelling down the length of his arm.

Ryo felt his heart break into a gallop at the strange new sensation. To be caressed by someone you love is special, and it is to be expected. It is normal--no wild, panicky, heart-racing shock is present, only willingness to be loved… but to be caressed by someone you passionately hate and fear with every fibre of your being, _that_ is a thousand times more thrilling. The danger, the anxiety, the awareness that the hand stroking you is just as capable of killing you, sends icy fire through every nerve in your body, and that is what Ryo felt now. And it was overwhelmingly euphoric.

Morinum's hand then lay flat against Ryo's ribs, sliding down and slowly climbing the slight rise of his hip, following the slope down to his warm, rich thighs and then back up again. Ryo felt his own skin prick up as he shivered from the touches, as strangely gentle and almost enjoyable as they were. His heart was pounding so quickly that he was forced to part his lips and breathe silently through his mouth. He did not want Morinum to hear what these caresses were doing to him.

"Three weeks' time can make a man forget familiar territory," the Spartan murmured, his hand venturing across Ryo's well-toned chest and languidly tracing the dark circle of a nipple. "I shall have to mark it again." His mouth clasped the smooth, tan shoulder in a hot embrace, leaving a cooling trail of saliva as it ventured up to Ryo's neck and locked against it hungrily. Already could he feel the general's stiff length prodding against his skin, hot and large.

The Trojan closed his eyes and let out a reluctant moan as he felt Morinum's arm slither up under his neck and pet his burning cheeks with cool fingers, the other wrapping around his waist and holding him tightly. Ryo began to pant heavily, and felt his flaccid length slowly awaken from its slumber. "Why…" he managed to breathe. "Why are you being so gentle, Master?"

The auburn haired young warrior pulled his lips from Ryo's flesh and with the arm underneath Ryo, pressed a cool hand to the slave's forehead. "I have grown tired of taking you by force. My violence doesn't seem to affect you like it has before. You've become accustomed to it, you expect it…" The other hand that had been journeying across Ryo's chest slipped lower, creeping across the firm abdomen that twitched in nervousness. "…so I have decided to try another method, one that is gentle but potent and passionate." Fingers danced the circumference of Ryo's shallow navel, dipping inside the mark of birth every now and then playfully. "But we will never make love," Morinum growled softly, voice becoming dark. "Conqueror and conquered, Greek and Roman, master and slave--we can only make hate. How does that make you feel, Sanadus?"

Ryo gulped. "Disgusted. Relieved," he answered defiantly, and he heard the general chuckle quietly.

"Fearful?" he suggested.

Ryo's heart skipped a beat and he knew that Morinum was right. He was terrified. He feared his master's blows but he dreaded with implacable fear his caresses even more. He took it as a sign of madness, the end of the end, the final coming of doom that would bring about his life's end. But as much as Ryo hated his life, he, like any other man, feared death more than anything. To him it represented the unknown, the darkness, the question of where his soul would be delivered: in the land of the gods or the land of eternal suffering. And for spending his days in the hands of war, hate and faithlessness… he feared the worst.

Morinum's hand began to graze across the coarse, dark hair that led to Ryo's sex, and he relished the helpless noise that the young man made as his partial erection was grasped at the base and tenderly fondled. He leaned close to Ryo's ear and whispered, "I will take so much pleasure in watching you come undone like a thread of woven cloth."

Ryo heaved a dry sob of despair and tried not to give in to the pulses of pleasure radiating from between his legs. This wasn't how he planned it. _He_ was supposed to be the one to vex Morinum, not the other way around. How did this happen? _Why couldn't I handle the situation?_ Ryo accused himself mercilessly. _Why did I have to give in and let him take me? Why didn't I have the strength to overcome him? Why can't I react like he least expects me to react? Why!? _

Wait. Ryo's eyes opened slightly and he stared straight ahead. _How _does_ he expect me to react? He wants to wring the tears out of me, he wants to see me weep and be weak. He wants to see me as an inferior. He thinks this type of rape will mark the end of my sanity. He _wants_ me to go insane… _

Ryo recalled his most powerful moment, atop Morinum and undressing him, pretending to enjoy pleasuring his master… _if that's what he least expects, I'll give it to him. He won't win this time, not if I can help it. Two can play this game._

With graceful slowness, Ryo lifted his arm and reached back until his fingers brushed the silky strands of Morinum's hair. He placed his hand behind the general's head and guided him down to his bare flesh; there was a moment's hesitation before Ryo felt a hot mouth meet the base of his throat, and he moaned softly in a pleased tone. "Hahhh," he panted, mouth open. "Try to make me come undone if you can, Master."

The Spartan scoffed at the challenge and clumsily propped himself up on an elbow, prying a knee between the warmth of Ryo's legs and forcing them apart. He reached under Ryo's upper leg, grasping the pliant flesh and kneading it with urgent greed. The Roman heaved a sigh and craned his head back, looking for all the world as if it were the most wonderful thing he had ever felt. Morinum frowned as his ministrations produced another unexpected effect. This wasn't going as he had planned.

The Spartan shifted his weight, tilting Ryo over slightly so that his chest was pressed to the coverlets while his lower body was still lying on one side; then, after a few awkward nudges of his hips, he found the yielding entrance of his dark haired servant and slipped inside with deft familiarity.

"Aaahh!" Ryo groaned with a lust-saturated tone, lifting his leg to allow deeper penetration. His cry wasn't entirely false, for he had never experienced the feeling of being penetrated from the side. This was something new to him, surprising and worrisome, but not at all awful-feeling. In fact, as he thought of it in a purely acting sense, it felt rather satisfying. He allowed himself to openly grin and murmur, "Nnnhhh…"

Morinum, wide-eyed and looking rather alarmed, stared at his slave's face. Was that pleasure he saw? No, Romans were too deceitful… but it looked so genuine, so real. The brunette frowned and paused. Where was the fear? Where were the cries and yelps and begs for him to stop? Well, he'll stop that nonsense-

Morinum leaned down and set his teeth into Ryo's shoulder, one hand vacating the tan thigh to reach around Ryo's hips and grasp his cock with a hard, painful grip. "Unh!" Ryo whimpered at the sudden pain. "I thought you weren't going to be rough."

Immediately the pain-inducing touches ceased and Morinum let the realisation hit him: he had been backed into a corner, and that damnable slave was the whole reason why. He could not bring him pain--he said he himself would not and knew that it would be useless as far as breaking his quarry. And so far, bringing him comfort was not making him uneasy, either. It was having just the opposite effect.

Morinum pulled out of Ryo's body slightly, leaving the tight, hot cocoon of flesh and blood and bone… and he felt reluctant. He had been thinking of his lovely slave all day and only now had the time to partake of his pleasures before seeing to more military affairs tomorrow. He hadn't engaged in any sexual activities for with his slave for a long time and was ready, regardless of consent or reaction, to satisfy his needs as he saw fit.

His eyes travelled across the lovely beige flesh before him, all belonging to him, willingly given to him this time, waiting for him to claim again… Morinum's hand released Ryo's aching erection and meditatively plied his slender hip. So soft, so yielding, so beautiful… _but I was not taught to care for things of beauty… _

He leaned close and breathed in the scent of Ryo's shiny midnight locks, flowers and skin and sky and sweat… _but who cares for those things? They do not matter to me. _

Ryo felt warm breath against his ear and turned his head to gaze into the confused, sea-coloured eyes that were burning with desire and plagued between conflicting emotions. Ryo recognised it. He had felt it upon his return from the banquet, that grey feeling that made yet another thing that he and Morinum shared but were unwilling to admit.

Hate, love, deception, trust, what had become of it all? It was nothing but a giant mass of black and white, melting together and becoming grey, unable to be defined by certain things anymore. The more they tried to fight it, the more entangled in the grey they became, the more it swallowed them whole.

"Cye…" Ryo barely breathed, his lips hardly moving. Morinum blinked numbly, eyes never changing. The breath of two enemies mixed as they laid in a tangle of naked limbs, the perfect opposing forces that suddenly needed each other more than anything.

The heart that Ryo had known before he was a slave, before he was captured, before everything he loved had been destroyed, came back to him, and pounded fiercely beneath his chest as he reached up, stroking the general's cheek.

"Cye," he whispered again, as delicate as the air that carried it.

As if lost in a trance, Morinum leaned closer, his lips hovering inches above Ryo's. Waiting. Hesitating. Deciding. And for one brief moment, like a shooting star, it happened.

Cye leaned down, brushing Ryo's tender, velvet lips with his own and sighing thankfully into the mouth below. Ryo could taste him, taste the breath of Cye on his tongue, and it was a thousand times sweeter and headier than the most potent wine on earth. It was a sample of the nectar of the gods itself.

Ryo's eyes misted over and filled with unshed tears. "Cye…" he murmured happily. But the life of a shooting star is brief, and so it was with this moment. With sudden and unpredicted swiftness, everything shattered around them, the glass walls that had been built so carefully during those few seconds now broken into a million billion shards. The battle in the seas was won, but the victor was not the hero.

Morinum sat up quickly and glared hatefully at the Roman. "Treacherous… conniving…" He was trembling in rage as he grabbed his chiton and pulled it on, covering his scars, hiding his bare soul again. Ryo covered himself with the thin sheets and sat upright as Morinum rose from the bed, grabbed a short cloak, tied it on and strode angrily toward the doors. Ryo's fading heart pounded desperately and his lips parted to call out to Cye once again… but Cye was no longer there.

Morinum threw a door open with a bang and turned to face his slave with the darkest, most evil expression Ryo had ever remembered seeing. His heart stopped, and the Spartan snarled, "I should have killed you the moment you set foot into this city."

The heavy wooden door slammed behind him, sending echoes reverberating down the hall and deep into Ryo's mind. His hands clutched the sheets to his chest in a white-knuckled grip fueled by fear and confusion. He had seen it now and knew it was there, that thin, shadowy figure of a long-dead boy still haunting the fierce general's body. If only Ryo had acted then, if only he could have done something to consummate the sudden change of heart between them both… and if only Ryo hadn't loved his freedom more, everything wrong that had ever been created would have come undone.

Almost.

They had almost come undone.

* * *

Sage Dathae arose earlier than usual that morning, for what reason he was unsure. He hadn't been permitted to rest until the banquet had been over, and it had lasted far into the night; what little sleep he managed to catch was interrupted occasionally by Rowenium's attempts to soothe Dathae's ill feelings toward him for being so indifferent during the banquet, when Ryo was being quite literally manhandled by the colonel and his men. The blond Athenian had been sulky for the rest of the evening, and refused any advances the young king had made on him, determined to teach his majesty a lesson.

Dathae slowly crawled from beneath the cool, damp covers of the large bed that he shared with Rowenium on some nights and pulled on a long chiton over his bare body. It was cold; he walked to one of the large windows and gazed out at the bleak sunrise that hardly shed any light, the sun hidden behind thick grey clouds. A chilled breeze that was ripe with dew toyed with the thin curtains around the window, and Dathae hugged his bare arms close to his body for warmth.

There was a scent of change in the wind like the calm before a storm, and it suddenly made him wish that he had never woken up this day. He frowned, narrowing his pale violet eyes as the crisp breeze teased his golden hair mockingly. Something was going to happen today--Sage could feel it in his bones.

And he didn't like it, not one bit.

* * *

Dathae pushed open the door of the servants' dining hall and sat down at one of the tables. There were a few people here and there: the gardeners and the fountain-keepers, the usual number of guards, the interior servants and all the minions whose day began before much of the palace was awake. They were already up and starting another day.

The Athenian imagined what dull lives they must lead, and didn't feel like eating. He wanted something alcoholic. Perhaps he was feeling so weird and moody because he had finally dried up from his recent drinking binge. He didn't like being sober this early in the morning. He stood to his feet with a restless sigh and trudged back into the depths of the kitchen, greeting the good-natured cook with familiarity, and grabbed a carafe of light wine and a simple chalice.

He returned to his seat with his poor excuse of a morning repast and poured himself a generous amount. There were a few lowly slaves sitting at the table behind him, chattering away about anything even mildly interesting. Dathae sat with his elbow on the table, hunched over and listening with only half an ear and mind to their pointless bantering as he drank.

"…but I didn't see her again that evening. T'was as if she just disappeared. I've no clue where she came from."

"Oh, you've always got your nose into none of your business, Theo."

"Well, she looked a woman of importance, anyway."

"Oh! That reminds me: have any of you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Someone was caught trespassing on the palace grounds last night! Do you know how crafty they must have been to slip past the guards?"

Dathae became suddenly alert to every word that was being said and sat up.

"You jest!"

"I do no such thing!"

"Impossible. Nobody's ever been clever enough to trespass this place, not since Rowenium's great grandfather was at the throne."

"Well, it's been done."

"Who is this trespasser?"

"That's just it--no one knows. He refuses to speak, but he looks foreign."

"Did you see him?"

"I caught a glimpse when they hauled him down to the cells last night. He was wearing a servant's tunic and they later discovered poor Julian, unclothed and unconscious behind a hedgerow!"

"My word!"

Dathae rose to his feet. Why did he have a feeling that this all had to do with Ryo? When the Athenian felt a suspicion of this magnitude it was usually correct. At least it was with his future-predicting profession; there were forces at work here and he suddenly felt as if he were running out of time. He had to talk to Ryo, regardless of orders and guards, and find out what had been going on last night. He would find a way to talk to his friend. He would find a way.

Wine completely forgotten, Dathae left his seat and strode hurriedly out of the dining hall, footsteps echoing down the corridor in the direction that led to Morinum's chamber.

* * *

**[1] **_cuirass_- a metal breastplate worn for battle in the ancient days of Greece. I custom-fitted Morinum's to be like a sort of thinner version of the armour worn for military travelling.

**[2] **_greaves_- ancient Greek shin guards that come up over the knee and end at the ankle.]


	12. Chapter XII General

**Chapter XII: General**

It was silent in the military hall of the palace, silent and desolate. Not a sound echoed down the long, cold corridor, not even the whisper of morning breeze as it rolled quietly in through the large windows and breathed its journey into the heart of the palace. It was like the calm before a battle, that palpable tension that permeated even the fibres of the granite and marble floor.

In the largest room at the very end of the hall, seated at the head of an oblong table, sat General Morinum, with his slender fingertips propped to his temple and his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. His other hand was idly occupied with a stick of charcoal, thumb and middle finger sliding down and becoming smudged with black, then he lifted his hand and allowed the stick to fall back down, where he repeated the process again and again. In the course of time, his fingers had become caked with the black dust, but he paid no mind. He had paid no mind to it all night long when he had stayed awake and brooded in silence until the light of dawn.

This was how many of Morinum's nights were spent in the palace, sleepless and in the military wing, plotting war and going over strategies until he knew them all backwards and forwards. It was the only time he felt as if he truly owned up to his Spartan way of life, the breeding of brutality and toughness that granted him the ferocity and awe that he had this day. But it meant nothing to him if it did not matter to the lowliest of slaves, _his_ slave.

Perhaps it was time to finally discard Ryo Sanadus and be done with him, for no longer did he seem to fear Morinum's wrath or hands or any punishment that he could bring forth. He had finally used him for all of his worth. Morinum sighed. It had been a satisfying investment, reducing a once proud general to a quivering bed slave for five years, enjoying the wonderful fruits of Ryo's body that seemed to grow more beautiful with each day. Like a butterfly in the pits of hell, that fragile beauty was Ryo's.

Morinum recalled how a few years ago one of his high ranking officers made so bold as to ask the general if owning a Trojan slave were not hypocritical of him, especially when he was attempting to eradicate all of their people. Morinum had drawn himself to his full height with a frightful glare and replied that he was saving the greatest for last. The officer who had dared to question him had been so intimidated by the general's response that he had not spoken to him since, keeping as far away from Morinum as possible.

_The greatest_… the Spartan had regarded Ryo as the best of the Trojans, above all of the others, but what he had really meant was only a token of words to buy more time to enjoy him. The slave was still responsive to his violence back then, and Morinum was not finished exploiting the fear that he still had the power of driving into him.

Looking back on his words, Morinum regretted ever speaking them. It was a lie; Sanadus was the worst general in Roman history, too inexperienced and emotion-driven. He was careless, nothing more than a clumsy, beautiful boy. Therein lay the reason why Morinum kept him; his youth, his innocence, his flesh… and he took and ravaged it all.

But in the grand scheme of it, Morinum's pet played not a significant part; he was merely an addition that compounded his annoyance and provoked his temper. The general let out a growly exhale and turned his mind to more important matters. Steady footsteps faded into existence and grew closer; one of the royal prison keepers appeared in the doorway, saluted the general smartly and stated, "Your presence is requested at the prisoners' quarters, sir."

"Why?" Morinum said slowly.

"We took a trespasser last night and he refuses to speak."

"Why don't you just kill him then?" the Spartan replied in annoyance. "Why waste my time-"

"We would, sir, but unsettling thing is: he was caught on his way _out_."

Morinum became alert. "Out, you say?" Pause. "And he refuses to speak?"

"Yes, sir. He was also disguised as a servant, perhaps to hide his foreign look."

The general deliberated a moment, fingers lightly thrumming against the arm of the chair and his face dark with thought. "I'll see him," he said as he rose from his seat and walked to the door. "I am interested in what this felon has to say."

"But sir, he won't talk to any-"

"He will. I'll see to it that he does."

* * *

Sage Dathae walked quickly with silent, graceful strides down the corridors of the palace, his mind churning with the thoughts of what he had heard in the dining hall that morning: A trespasser had been caught sneaking around the grounds last night, a feat thought impossible by even the most cunning individual. Not only that, but he had infiltrated the royal house and was dressed in the guise of one of the servants. An act like that was indeed admirable no matter how ill the intentions were.

Dathae puzzled more; Rowenium was always adamant about having great amounts of security around his kingdom, and prided himself on having the most well protected city in Greece, especially with a hellion like Morinum at the head of his army; no enemy dared set foot into Rowenia unless he had a death wish. But somehow the Athenian got the feeling that last night's trespasser did not come to Rowenia to die. He came to take something… or maybe take something _back_… and he immediately thought of Ryo. Dathae was no stranger to the powers of intuition, and this was what he had been feeling deep down in the pit of his stomach since he had opened his eyes that morning. Foreboding. Warning. An ominous presence that-

Sage rounded a corner and the moment he spied Morinum walking down the hall towards him, he felt a wave of intense threat sweep into his body like a cold wind--he pressed himself against the wall, but only too late. Morinum had spotted him. The blond could only thank the gods that the prison keeper was present, otherwise he feared Morinum to do his worst. But the general's eyes made it clear that he cared nothing of what happened before the keeper.

Morinum slowed his pace as he approached, and Dathae kept his eyes pinned to the Spartan's with much effort. Morinum paused less than a foot away, knowing exactly where the Athenian intended upon going, and inquired darkly, "What business brings one slut to another?"

"Who said I was meeting with _you_?" Dathae said bravely, and the auburn haired general gave him a look that all but killed.

Morinum slowly leaned forward and placed an unusually gentle hand upon Sage's shoulder. "Venture near him and not even the king will be able to save you from _me_, Dathae of Athens," he muttered in a low voice, tightening his grip on Sage's shoulder until the young blond made a small noise of pain in his throat. Morinum released him with a shove and stepped back, continuing his way down the hall with a very worried prison keeper until they were out of sight.

When he was certain they were out of earshot, Dathae leaned heavily against the wall and panted; his heart had been pounding like a hammer and he held his breath the entire time. That tone in Morinum's voice… Dathae knew he was serious. If he caught him again it would be his doom. The Athenian righted himself and continued onward, toward Morinum's chambers. Death or no, he had to speak to Ryo. Perhaps he knew about this mysterious trespasser, but he was hoping he knew more about what was happening to Morinum. The general had looked positively evil.

* * *

He had already planned how to take care of the guard; Dathae ran down the hall with his wrist to his forehead, staggering dramatically and pretending to trip. He had the sentry's full attention by the time he reached Morinum's chamber doors and collapsed onto the floor moaning, "It was horrible! Oh gods! Run away! You must flee this place at once!"

The guard huffed, "What's the meaning of this? What's wrong with you, you fool?"

Dathae moved his lips and made a rasping sound, and the guard kneeled down to hear him. The blond's eyes rolled as if he were on the verge of faint. "It's coming…! Run… away…" he breathed.

"What?" the guard asked worriedly, leaning closer still. "What ails you, knave?"

At that moment, Dathae produced a thick marble statuette of Athena that he had swiped from one of the pedestals in the other hall and hidden in his robe, and struck the guard right between the eyes as hard as he could. A dumb look crossed the man's face before he toppled over like a tree, unconscious.

Dathae sat up with a grunt and grabbed the guard by the shoulders, hefting him in an upright sitting position and propping him against the wall, hoping that if anyone ventured down the hall they would simply mistake him for a sleepy sentry. The blond exhaled heavily and tried to still his thumping heart, and he gazed up at the doors before him, rising to his feet soundlessly.

He gently eased open one of the double doors and peered inside. Nothing. The room seemed vacant. Sage pushed the door wide, and a grey-silver streak suddenly and swiftly came flying at him from the side in a blurred arc, and he instinctively cocked his head in the other direction as the blade of a very sharp and dangerous-looking sword planted deeply into the wood of the door mere inches from his neck.

Before he could recover, Dathae was grabbed by the collar of his chiton and yanked in forcefully by some unseen person who had been standing next to the entrance, lying in wait.

"What on earth is the matter with you!" Ryo's pale, nervous face came before the Athenian's, his frightful blue eyes large. "I could have killed you!"

"I doubt it not," came the shaky reply from an equally shaken Dathae. "Perhaps you should save that move for Morinum when he returns, eh?"

"I was planning on it," Ryo muttered, wrenching the sword from the wood and holding it with deft familiarity.

Dathae had to look twice to be certain his eyes weren't deceiving him. "Ryo, where on earth did you get that armour? And that sword?"

"Morinum was foolish enough to leave his armaments behind," Ryo said with a slight grin on his lips. "I haven't held a sword in five long years." He raised the broad, shining blade in one hand lightly, taking a few practise strikes. "Did you know that this is the very same sword I wielded when I was a soldier, Dathae?"

"No, I did not."

"A marvelous sword it is. Forged in Troy by the Sanadus family, _my_ family, and my only reminder of home." Ryo gazed at it mournfully. "How terrible that for the past five years it's been used to spill the blood of my brothers."

"It's ironic," the blond agreed softly.

Ryo scowled. "Well, no longer shall it be so. I will change the course of its future. I shall take back what is rightfully mine; my life, my sword, my pride. It will be a day of reckoning for me… and a day of remorse for Morinum, if he is even capable of feeling such things."

Sage stared on in amazement, fully noting Ryo's fierce appearance: he had traded his evening chiton for a short military one, and he wore greaves on his legs and arms, a thick metal cuirass on his torso, and had a heavy sheath latched to the sturdy leather belt he wore; Ryo returned the sword to its place as Sage continued to stare. Ryo had even donned the long red cloak that the absent general had left behind. Neither traces nor pins bound his hair; rather, it was left wild and flowing down his back, altogether an awesome image of power. But perhaps it was the insane gleam in Ryo's blue eyes that made Dathae catch his breath.

"Ryo, you look like a madman," the blond breathed.

"Oh, I assure you, I am," came the quick reply. "Five years of nightmares and sleepless nights haunted by a monstrous beast is quite enough to have etched away the last pieces of my sanity." Ryo strode confidently to the window and gazed out. "Today is to be my day of independence. I will escape from this hellish place at long last."

"B-but," Sage stuttered helplessly. "But there's no way Morinum would-"

"Then I will kill him." Ryo turned around, face stern and confident. "I have cried my last tear in Rowenia, Sage. I will cry no more."

Dathae paused, folded his hands together silently and gazed at his transformed friend. So there would be no mercy, no love, no happiness to be found in Ryo any longer. He was a doomed man, and the blond's heart mourned gently to know that Morinum had indeed succeeded in his work; Ryo was no longer going to be Ryo. That image of innocence and youth would fade away into the harsh, cruel coldness that was Sanadus, the bitter Roman general. What had happened to Morinum was now going to happen to his slave. It was ironic, so cruelly ironic.

"Ryo…" Sage whispered. "What happened last night?"

"Many things happened last night," came the blunt reply.

"I know. But I also sense that you know something about the stranger who visited you last night."

The Trojan turned around, cloak swirling, his face bent with worry. "How do you know that? Who did you hear it from?"

The Athenian gulped. "So you knew him? Was he one of your fellow Romans?"

"He is Khristos Faunus, my brother in arms," Ryo replied.

"Gods," Sage breathed, massaging his brow as if his head were pounding.

Ryo stepped forward and rested his hands upon Sage's shoulder. "Dathae-"

"He's been captured."

The young general's hands dropped like wounded birds from the blond, and he stepped away with stunned silence. "How… did… Khris? Captured?"

"He was caught when he attempted to exit the palace grounds last night. They have him in the royal prison where he is most likely going to face questioning by General Morinum-"

"Morin-!? NO! NO!" Ryo threw himself at the doors, but Dathae was already doing his best to put himself between the two. The dark haired young man struggled, clawed at the doors with bare fingers, his whole body trembling from tears that could not be spilled as he sobbed, "He'll kill him. He'll kill him. Oh, gods, Dathae, they're going to kill him! Let me go! Get out of my way!"

"Ryo, stop! Please! You're going to get yourself killed! Stop it!" He slapped the Roman's face, and he regained his calmness somewhat, ceasing his violent struggling. Sage gulped, wrapped his arms about Ryo and leaned his head against the armoured shoulder. "If you go out there like this, the guards will attack you. I have a premonition, Ryo, and it isn't good."

"So what am I supposed to do? Just stay in this room and allow that beast to torture the only person who believed that I was alive all these years, the only person who would leave his wife and family to brave enemy territory and travel across oceans and lands and mountains to come save _me_? I cannot allow that to happen, Dathae, and I will not. I do not care if I must sacrifice my life in order to free Khristos; I will do it. And if I can manage to put Morinum out of the world's misery, well then, that's one more reason I shall so eagerly throw myself into death's arms-"

"Ryo." Tears flowed from Sage's eyes as he held onto his friend, his lover. "I know it is futile to try and persuade you to reason…" He swallowed the sobs in his throat. "But if by fate's hand you are to pass from this world today, and if you fear yourself to be alone in your final moment, I shall be there to hold you… so that you shall die in the arms of someone who loves you."

The recollection of the night of passion that he and Dathae had shared came flowing back to Ryo, and those words, unspoken and existing only in thought, had somehow been heard by the sensitive young man.

_"We're making love," Ryo had gasped softly, trying to convince himself that this was real._

_"Yes," Sage had murmured in his ear. "We're making love."_

Love… _he didn't want it to end. Would this really be the last time he felt it before he died? If so, he wanted to die now, in the arms of someone who loved him. He was determined he would not perish any other way. Love was too precious a thing to live without._

_'I want to die',_ _Ryo had thought._ '_In the arms of someone who loves me.'_

"Remember those feelings, Ryo," Sage murmured, pulling away and gazing into sapphire blue eyes. He smiled sadly, reaching up to stroke Ryo's cheek. "Remember love, for it is all. Remember happiness, for without it, this world is but a grave. Remember your heart, for it can live although it has ceased to beat. And remember me, Ryo, for this is the last time we shall ever see each other again."

"Sage, I…"

Dathae shook his head. "No words. Just thoughts. Speak with your heart; I can hear that loudly enough."

Ryo leaned forward and embraced the Athenian, his angel, the only true friend he had made in Hell, and gently pulled away. "I will never forget you, Sage Dathae of Athens. _Esto perpetue_." **[1]**

Sage smiled as tears coursed down his cheeks. "I will never forget you, General Ryo Sanadus of Troy. _E' khe tu' khê agath_." **[2]**

Their heartfelt farewell was interrupted by a terrible pounding at the doors, and both Sage and Ryo started at the sound fearfully. "Open this door, you Athenian cur!" came a furious voice. "I know you're in there! Open it now!"

"The guard. He must have woken," Dathae uttered, and pointed to the window. "Leave. Quickly! I'll do my best to hold him off."

"But you might-"

"It matters not what happens to me--go save your Roman friend and flee this cage of oppression. Rebuild your Troy, lead your armies. Return to your life again. It is being given back to you."

Ryo hesitated, wanting to say more. Wood splintered around the doorframes, and Sage pushed the Roman toward the window. "Go! Hurry!"

"I love you," Ryo stated finally, then hastily slipped out the open window and ducked behind the hedges along the wall.

The blond smiled warmly and whispered, "And I you."

The door burst open, and three guards plowed into the room angrily. Two of them took hold of Dathae while the third, the one that Dathae had knocked out, snarled, "You are not allowed in here, you wretched, worthless tripe. Where's the slave?"

"Slave?" came the smug reply. "There is no slave here."

"I heard voices."

"You heard the wind."

A large hand connected with the side of Sage's face, and blood ran from his mouth where he had bitten his tongue. The gruff sentry growled, "I have taken your snotty attitude for long enough. You're nothing but a dirty whore, even if you belong to the king. I care not about his retribution any longer. A slave is a slave." He grabbed a fistful of the Athenian's golden hair and jerked it hard. "You will feel my wrath for what you've done, and if you get the bright idea of running to Rowenium for protection, I shall order the other guards who have endured your horridness to administer punishment in my place. You have angered too many of us for long enough, and we will not be pushed around by a slut of a slave anymore. Do you understand?" He rattled Dathae's head harshly.

"Yes…" he croaked. A strike to his face quickly corrected him. "Yes, sir," Sage moaned miserably, face throbbing with pain.

"Excellent," the guard muttered, cracking his knuckles ominously as the three longsuffering sentries closed around Dathae to deal out a much-needed punishment.

* * *

**[1]** Latin: _May you last forever._

**[2]** Greek: _Good luck to you._


End file.
